Air
by Calebski
Summary: His life was one of structure, regime, and obedience, everything was in formation lines. Everything except for her, Hermione. With her wild hair that sprang in every direction, she broke every rule in his overly dictated life, and he wasn't sorry for it.
1. Prologue

_A/N so many of you will know that this one has been floating around in my head for a while, this was one of the first pairings I adored while reading the books and sadly there are not too many stories. This fic will be split into three parts, the first I have drafted which will cover the TriWizard Tournament._

 _Thank you to Kreeblim Sabs who helped a lot with this chapter!_

* * *

Hermione landed ungraciously on her back and winced at the shudder that ripped through her frame. Magic was perfect for expedient travel, but when these methods had been invented, those involved seemingly hadn't focused on comfort in the same way that muggles did. Every form of magical transportation seemed to include some variant on being squeezed within a tube or dropped from a great height.

As Ginny helped her to her feet, she shot a pointless scowl at the old brown boot, while trying surreptitiously to dislodge any grass from the back of her bum. She was sure she would be covered in grass from where she fell. Her humiliation was increased by Cedric Diggory's artful drop into the middle of them, not a hair out of place.

She watched him saunter through the rest of the tangled bodies with the hint of a smirk on his chiselled face. When she began to think _unkind thoughts_ about the unruffled pretty boy she cut herself off, it wasn't his fault she was in a bad mood. Though she couldn't help the eye roll as he moved between herself and Ginny murmuring "Ladies".

She wasn't even sure why she was here; she didn't even like Quidditch. Or at least she didn't like the time the others devoted to it. Since she had arrived at the Weasley house, the evening before, it was all any of them could talk about.

She didn't want to be ungrateful, it was clearly a massive deal that Mr Weasley had got these tickets, and she was very pleased to have been asked, she just wasn't sure that she would enjoy it. Worse still she couldn't help but worry that she would mess it all up for everyone, by saying the wrong thing, angering Ron and causing Harry to be disappointed in her.

Once they had rubbed the various aches and pains in their limbs Mr Weasley and Mr Diggory took the lead talking animatedly about events at The Ministry. Hermione brought up the rear with Ginny, and the red head channelled her excitement by talking non-stop at Hermione, moving between discussion of Irish players that ' _even Hermione would be able to get interested in_ ' and sighs relating to the fit of Harry's jeans.

A short walk later all of Hermione's concerns fell away as they stood on the crest of a large hill overlooking the biggest, noisiest campsite that Hermione had ever seen. It was vast and so very full of life that she found it breathtaking. At the furthest point, she could just make out the stadium in the distance if she squinted her eyes from the sun.

Navigating the campsite should've been difficult; Hermione couldn't help but be impressed at the level of the organisation The Ministry had undertaken, earning her a beam from Percy when he heard her whispering her praises to Ginny. Mr Weasley had a plot number for their tent as well as a map which lead them in the right direction in no time.

Despite the ease of their route Hermione had never been the best with crowds, mainly due to being shorter than most of the others there. After stumbling for the third time, Hermione jumped as she was grabbed on either side of her waist and lifted off the ground, releasing a yelp as she was chucked forward and dropped onto Fred's back. She turned abruptly to see George smirking at her.

"Now, now Granger" he spoke placatingly with a beam that did nothing to hide his amusement.

"Temper temper" Fred broke in from in front of her.

"We were only trying…"

"... to prevent you from injuring yourself."

Realising the futility in a potential protest, Hermione just sighed before scrambling to link her hands around Fred's neck as he ran off at speed.

When they made it to the tent, she was more than a little bemused. It looked old and shabby round the edges, not that any of that mattered to her, she was more concerned that it appeared to be a one-man berth. She managed a quick, slightly panicked glance at Harry who was looking equally wide-eyed before Fred abruptly dropped his knees and they walked in.

She gasped in surprise as she took in the interior. Hermione had been in the magical world for three years now but it never stopped surprising her, inside the tent was like a small apartment; decorated in a similar style to the Weasley's home with homemade blankets and knick-knacks scattered everywhere.

Fred crouched to let her down, and before he feet were firmly planted on the floor, an excitable Ginny grabbed her wrist and dragged her off to the smallest bedroom to pick beds.

Minutes later the tent was full with the usual squabbling that could be found when all the Weasley children were at home, and Mr Weasley sent the youngest of them out of the tent to explore, meaning her usual trio carried the additions of Ginny and the twins.

She moved too quick for George to grab her this time, opting to stick next to Ginny instead, now that most people had settled the crowds weren't so bad, or at least the people weren't carrying as much stuff.

If she had thought the Weasley tent was impressive she hadn't seen anything yet, tents of all shapes and sizes were put up in neatly ordered rows, most covered in flags or decoration declaring their support for one of the teams in the evenings final.

Fred and George took it in turns to list off the scores and attributes of the Irish team players and Hermione tried her best to keep up with the rest of her group started to sound as if they were communicating in another language.

She knew enough to discern that Ireland were favourites to win that evening, as well as popular with the fans. Not to say there weren't Bulgarian fans in the campsite as there were obviously many, where there was red one face was draped over tents and flying from banners more than any other. Seeking to redirect the conversation in any other direction, even if it was still about Quidditch, she pointed towards the nearest one.

"Who's that?" she asked idly.

Five faces turned to look at her with expressions that ranged from incredulous to full horror.

"That Hermione… that" began Ron sputtering "is the best seeker in the world... Viktor Krum"

"Oh, a seeker?...Like Harry" Harry looked decidedly happy with her pronouncement, and she was glad to have done something right.

Ron began a speech of Viktor's prowess that sounded like he might have moved alarmingly beyond hero worship.

"He looks a little grumpy," Hermione said, tilting her head to the side to look a little closer, seeking to derail Ron from his declarations before the Twins began hassling him.

As that didn't work and the others began taunting Ron mercilessly for his passionate display, Hermione turned back to the face on display. Grumpy didn't seem to be the best way to describe him, the more she looked, the more she recognised the expression he wore looked like possible reluctance to be in front of the camera, which was something to be empathised with, though he was scowling slightly more than she would do in pictures.

His dark hair was clipped close to his head with a dark prominent brow that was made all the more so by the expression on his face, pulling his eyebrows down over his eyes. He looked older than seventeen; she suspected this was to do with being more worldly, considering he already had a professional career, whatever that entailed.

He wasn't pretty, not in the way many of the players Ginny had shown her were, not in the way Oliver Wood or Cedric were, but, there was something there. He had a largish nose and a full mouth both of which wouldn't normally be attractive features, but somehow they worked for him.

While the twins continued to rib Ron over his undying affection for the Bulgarian, Hermione absentmindedly regarded the nick in his right eyebrow, wondering if it came from a Quidditch injury.

* * *

When night had fallen the Weasleys and guests had all bundled up against the incoming chill and joined the streams of fans heading towards the stadium, it was so tremendous Hermione could barely take it all in. She had been impressed with the structure of the stands at Hogwarts, this was so far beyond that, beyond compare actually.

The excitement among the party ratcheted almost with every step they took towards The Minister's box; even Hermione had begun to succumb to the delight of the event, she may not have been the biggest fan of the sport, but she couldn't deny the splendour and magnitude of the evening.

As they found their seats Hermione's eyes lit up and she regarded the magically illuminated pitch and the thousands of fans visible from her perfect spot. A shiver moved through her, whether down to the mounting excitement or the slight chill she couldn't be sure and Fred leant over to secure his Ireland scarf around her neck. Hermione smiled gratefully and privately ruminated on how strange it was not to be wearing house colours. That was until the team mascots arrived, producing such a massive response from the crowd that for the first time since she had joined the magical world, she concentrated on the sporting action happening in front of her without looking for a distraction.

* * *

Viktor felt the air rush around him as he zipped into the stadium in preplanned formation with his teammates. Everything he had been working for, since even before he could even remember clearly had been building to this moment. After a couple of quick laps of the stadium and some, admittedly, showy tricks he began to shut off into his professional mode.

It was harder than normal, though he had been playing at a national level for a while and had experience of being a respected, famous player the scale here was something else. He had attempted to keep a low profile all day and had avoided the campsite entirely. Anywhere he had gone he'd used a few complex transfiguration to charms to disguise himself completely, not that it took a great deal, people were expecting to see Viktor Krum the international Quidditch star, most days he could blend in just by making sure not to wear anything sport affiliated.

He missed seeing the campsite a little, though, from the noises he had been able to hear all day it sounded like the crowds are having a good amount of fun. He was sure he could forgo those pleasures to avoid looking at flags depicting his face; he had been ribbed enough about the ones that were visible from the stadium.

As the game began in earnest Viktor became single-minded in his search for the snitch, he relied on the other members of the squad to tell him when he could or could not act. It was evident fairly early on from the face of his captain that the match was not going their way. That development was not unexpected; Ireland had put together an incredibly strong side. When he registered the pre-planned throat cutting motion he knew he had been given the green light, they wouldn't win, but they would end it on their terms.

Like the rest of the team, the Irish Seeker was a great player, and certainly far superior to the other adversaries he had battled with to get to the final. Aidan Lynch had also been buoyed by the strength of his team; Viktor knew he would have to do something drastic to shake him off, failure to catch the snitch was not an option.

He waited until Lynch had tucked behind him, in close formation, before he began a sudden, quick ascent to the ground, darting slightly as if tracking the snitch's fluttering movement. He suppressed a grin when he heard the rush of a behind him letting him know he was being followed. He forced the front of his broom down, rapidly gathering speed and narrowing his eyes to pinpoint the very last moment he could pull back.

The stadium noise was gone, the bright lights muted as he focused on the pitch below that he was fast approaching. When he could make out the individual blades, making up the sea of green, he hastily pulled back on his broom, speeding back up again hearing the crunch is Lynch collided with the ground.

He felt a familiar rush of adrenaline at his move success, the first time he tried that he broke every bone in his right arm by misjudging the distance. It felt unbelievable to have pulled it off on an international stage, with any luck talk of that would soften the blow of the loss.

Seconds later a new kind of adrenaline took over when he spotted, in his peripheral vision, the flickering shimmer of gold. He sped after the tiny orb in a motion he had come to think of as having more resemblance to dancing with an unwilling partner than sport of any kind. Locked in pursuit he barely registered the bone crushing force of the bludger colliding with him; he didn't have time. He roughly wiped his face, clearing the haze from his eyes, dimly aware his fingers came back wet before reaching forward to place his arm almost so overstretched that he went over the tipping point of his broom.

One breath... he secured his feet.

Two breaths… he splayed his fingers as far as they would go.

Three breaths... his fingers plucked the winged menace right out of the sky.

After he had whooped in relief and triumph is teammates swooped to approach him at speed, he blinked heavily suddenly more aware of the harshness of the stadium lights and the shooting pains in the front of his face.

* * *

The initial shiver of conquest faded quickly, by the time he was on his way to The Minister's Box for the medal presentation Viktor was feeling decidedly unhappy.

The odds had been stacked against them from the start, but he couldn't help allowing the all too familiar weight to settled onto his shoulders. He was the star player, what if he had... The negative thoughts droned on as he climbed the many steps.

When Viktor reached the box he smiled, as best he could, when he was handed his consolation prize, posed for photos and shook hands with whoever required before retreating into the shadows while the Irish had their moment.

He thought about returning home to his country, his school, his family his friends. How would they perceive the loss?

He was pulled from his mounting disappointment by a sharpish tone whispering or trying to, over the other side of the box.

"...I mean really they're going to just make him stand there like that... yes, Ron, I understand that… I know… but...someone should do something about his nose."

A familiar awareness prickled through him, the feeling of being spoken about was not unusual; it often happened in his hearing. He lifted his hand gingerly to his face only to register pain. He had done his best remove the blood before walking up to the stand, but there had been time to fix the bone.

He turned looking to locate a speaker, it wasn't difficult, though the stand was packed as soon as his head moved in the general direction of the voice he noticed a witch, not so discreetly, stiffen. She was surrounded by a sea of redheads that didn't seem to paying much attention to what she was saying. As her eyes locked with his she bit down on her bottom lip, he imagined with some embarrassment at being caught, and he unconsciously took a step forward towards the girl and her large chocolate eyes.

"You is speaking to me?" he asked, knowing full well that she wasn't. She flushed, and he found he liked it.

"I…." she squared her shoulder a little, and he watched fascinated at how the tiny movement of her body had such a huge effect on her mass of curls "I was just saying that someone should probably have taken a look at your nose."

"You not like my nose?" he forced his voice to be serious, he wasn't sure what he was doing, why he had even turned to speak to her in the first place. But he felt somewhat captivated by her flushed face and excited eyes and found he didn't want to turn away from her… not yet.

Her voice sounded strained "no... that's not what I... you must believe" he saw the moment she must've caught the glimmering his eyes and her eyes flashed in indignation for a moment before she huffed "that was mean."

"Sorry… could not stop."

"I just meant... you should get your face looked at, it won't heal properly if you leave it too long. Magic or no magic."

 _Magic or no magic_ he turned the phrase over in his mind before relegating it to the back for further consideration at a later point.

He nodded in acknowledgement, after all, she was right, the sudden silence that descended between them signalled the end of the conversation, a cue he would normally have followed, but for some reason, he didn't want to. He scanned around the box for a second hoping to find someone or something he could mention to the girl but found nothing, until his eyes fell on the Ireland scarf around around her neck.

It was something to talk about though he didn't really like it.

"You are Ireland fan?" he realised he must've frowned when his face pulled, and he let out a small groan as he became more aware of the residual pain in his eyes and cheeks.

She looked confused for a moment, and he ran the expression over in his mind, he wasn't entirely confident in his grasp of English and had a sudden panic that he may have inadvertently insulted her; he tried to explain himself by gesturing to the scarf around her neck

 _That was excellent Viktor point and grunt like a caveman._

She looked down, and comprehension dawned on her face, her brows unknotted and she looked back at him "no, cold girl" she said while gesturing to one of the two redheads next to her, he was minus a scarf and Viktor was suddenly a bit sad she hadn't just been a fan.

"I don't know much about Quidditch really" she admitted in a small voice, and he couldn't stop the splutter and ensuing bubble of laughter that escaped him. It was enough to get the attention of one of his teammates who looked at him with raised eyebrows at his, very uncharacteristic, show of mirth. Viktor shrugged his shoulders at the player and he turned back around.

He wasn't sure anyone had ever told him that they didn't really know much about the sport he was famous for, even when it was clear they didn't know anything they would still prattle on regardless, there was something so beguiling about her honesty.

He winced again as he smiled broadly at her and she flinched at his show of pain, her slight shudder giving him an idea, a mad one but still…

"You fix nose?" he stated determinedly.

"I... what?!"

"I no have wand" he held his hands away from his body as if to demonstrate, "you say it should be done" she seemed to turn his proposition over in her mind.

"You probably shouldn't ask strangers to point their wands in your face Mr Krum" he smiled again, he couldn't help it, the earnest expression she had on her face as she lightly admonished him was adorable. The conversation felt more normal than those he routinely experienced with a woman; those were typically simpering requests to hear about his supposedly 'glamorous' life and sporting achievements.

"What is your name?" he asked softly.

"Hermione... Hermione Granger" her words coming out bolder now they were back on safe ground.

"Hello Hermy-o-ninny" he winced.

"Her-my-own-knee" she repeated kindly.

"Hello ...Hermy-knee.. my name is Viktor."

"Yes I know" she laughed.

"Well, not strangers now yes?" he asked hopefully, and she laughed again, he liked the sound, it was soft and warm.

"Not strangers, no" she took a step forward, all of the others in her group were still distracted, she pulled her wand from her hip and stood in front of him "hold still" she commanded softly, unnecessarily, he was already rooted to the spot.

"Episkey" she all but whispered.

"Govno" he swore at the sharp pain that erupted in his face as the nose realigned.

"Sorry," she said, sounding anything but.

He only became aware of the little bubble they had around themselves when it burst, commotion in the stands alerted him that the presentation was over, and the players would begin leaving.

"I go now, I...thank you for help."

"You're welcome" she answered quietly.

He paused for a moment reluctant to leave, he considered inviting her to the after match celebrations but decided against it; the rowdy pub would be no place for someone like her.

Suddenly a thought occurred to him "you attend Hogwarts yes?" he asked, attempting nonchalance but knowing hopefulness permeated his tone.

"Yes, this will be my fourth year" she answered nodding.

He started little at that, she was younger than he had expected, but he couldn't be downcast, he would have the whole year opportunities, he would make sure of it.

He flashed her a bright smile "have good summer, Hermy-knee Granger."

* * *

 _A/N Let me know what you think!_


	2. Part One - Chapter One

_A/N big huge thanks and wet smacking kisses to all of you who have reviewed, or added to lists so far, I wasn't expecting such a positively lovely response, so this has been a little overwhelming for me. As a lover of Viktor x Hermione it is wonderful to see so many of you that want to read that pairing… anyway, enough of my gushing here starts Part One, that will cover Hermione's 4th year and the TriWizard Tournament._

* * *

Dozens of booted feet moved in regimented fashion towards the main hall aboard the ship. Groans from the flexing wood, as they were steered on course, were largely ignored by those marching through the corridors, the boys were well used to the galleons noises by now.

Viktor paraded amongst the rest, not quite as smoothly as he did in the air, stopping to stand in his designated space alongside the rest of seventh-year boys who were in attendance. Twenty of them in total had been selected to come to Britain and take their chance to compete in the TriWizard Tournament.

The competition to get to this point had been somewhat rigorous, and Viktor had questioned his chances of success with the amount of time that he had lost, dedicated to preparations for the World Cup. Though absent he had kept up with his studies and his focus on his fitness had eventually helped him over the line.

A strong thump of a staff against the floor of the galleon alerted them to the arrival of their Headmaster, Igor Krakoff.

Every boys back straightened and shoulders were squared to make them stand tall and proud as the man cloaked in thick furs walked through them. All were conditioned to know what he demanded and the consequences should he find fault.

As Karkaroff got to the front of the room he cast an appraising eye over each and every one of them before, seeming satisfied, he banged his staff a final time signalling the beginning of his speech.

"We are now moments away from arrival at Hogwarts, from the instant this galleon emerges in the waters of the Black Lake I expect nothing but the best behaviour from every single one of you. You are here to represent Durmstrang, to represent me, to represent your families and yourselves. In. That. Order. Is that clear?" his tone was biting, through his long pale face remained rigid. Only his eyes spoke of the fires that dwelled beneath the seemingly calm visage.

"Yes Sir" twenty voices answered in perfect unison, without hesitation.

"The TriWizard Tournament was invented as a way to foster inter-school relations, the importance of which is… _negligible_. But you will remember that this is a competition. At. All. Times. Is that clear?"

"Yes Sir"

"You will remember the promises, willingly made the moment you stepped onto the grounds of the Institute, you will keep the details of its location and practises a secret. Is that clear?"

"Yes Sir"

Krakoff's face softened slightly, apparently pleased he had got his point across "some of you will know that Hogwarts and its Headmaster are considered by many to be whiter than white" his lip curled in a blatant display of his feelings on the subject. "If any of you get any hassle while we are here I expect to hear about it, though you may be capable it will not do you any good to fight these battles on your own. Hexing or beating a student to a pulp might be a _fine way_ to express your distaste at being labelled a _dark wizard_ but it is hardly a compelling counterargument."

He glanced around at the attentive faces again before continuing "finally, _do not fuck up the entrance_. If you make us look like idiots in front of those French fancies, I will be most severely displeased".

After a hard glance to show how serious he was, Karkaroff left the room in a billow of mink, and the boys left standing exchanged a few concerned glances. The expectations placed upon them at Durmstrang were extreme but most relished the hard line approach, as it was known to produce excellence, though none wanted to disappoint each other or the school.

A bell rang through the boat, reaching the boys still standing in the open room, they once again moved into the corridors ready for the ascent of the ship.

* * *

Once the ship had broken the surface of the lake, the twenty boys moved up onto the deck and watched silently as the school come into focus. The rolling greenery and sunlit castle were a world away from the frozen north wasteland that they had left behind, though Viktor was still grateful for his thick coat and hat as the strong Scottish, early morning breeze whipped around him, licking at his ungloved fingers.

Once they moored the small landing craft, just big enough for their party, was levitated into the still waters, and they rocketed towards the shoreline. Typically Karkaroff would make them row, but today he was keen to get inside and proceedings underway.

They deposited the boat on the sunny bank before resuming their order and marching towards the school.

As they stepped closer to the imposing castle, Viktor noted the presence of many of the school's students waiting in front of the massive front doors. He felt his head fall forward immediately as he detected the whisper of his name, first as a murmur on the breeze and then as a steady hum. He sensed his schoolmates close around him defensively, not that they perceived any threat, it was a silent show of support that he was immensely grateful for.

He couldn't help but notice the difference between the Durmastange contingent and the Hogwarts students. All of the boys he walked in with were uniform, from their formation to their hair. All of these children looked so disordered and _individual_. They were arranged in jumbled clumps, and none of them seemed to have a care for their posture.

As he walked deeper through the crowds, he couldn't help searching for a familiar head of curly brown hair. He had thought about Hermione Granger an awful lot over the last few months; her pinked cheeks and her light, spontaneous laughter. He would one day admit to himself just how much meeting her had contributed to his determination to get his spot on the boat. He was fairly sure Karkaroff would have given in place regardless, but he wanted to _earn it_.

He felt a touch of disappointment that he didn't locate her, and a small sense of panic that he did his best to ignore entirely.

* * *

Their much-discussed _entrance_ into the Great Hall before dinner was not something he wanted to do. Though the magic they would employ, he enjoyed immensely, staffs were commonly used alongside wands at Durmstrang, mainly for the display of power. The fire conjuring was beautiful, but, he could have done without all the attention.

Typically he would have taken his place amongst them, but due to prolonged absences for training, once he had made the national Quidditch Squad, he had been unable to take part in the preparations required for the routine and as such had to walk in side by side with the Headmaster.

Viktor had no doubt people would see him as the _aloof celebrity_ student who was above taking part in such things.

He sighed to himself as they were given the signal and he marched in, doing his best to walk up the seemingly endless gap between tables as fast as possible. He kept his eyes straight ahead and his mouth set into a firm line, it wasn't until he was more than half way up the room that he spotted her.

She looked so different in this setting and suddenly he was _very_ grateful for the lack of regularity amongst the Hogwarts students. She stood out so much to him, was so unique, the idea of making her conform to everyone else would have been unthinkable.

Sadly he had no time to do more than glance her way before he was ushered to his seat, to his disappointment, on the opposite side of the vast space.

As he took his seat, he watched as Karkaroff joined the head table, noting a moment of disgust on his Headmaster's face before his mask came down. The man was not always at his best around people he considered _outsiders_. Which to him, was everyone.

Once the speeches were over and the food appeared in the centre of the long tables, the visiting boys shucked their warmer outerwear before filling their plates. Viktor answered a few polite enquiries from those near him on the benches before he turned his attention to the other side of the room, thankfully Hermione was sat on the side of the table that faced him. It didn't take long to catch her gaze; he told himself she must have been looking in his direction too. He nodded at her in private greeting, eyes sparkling with amusement that he should reveal he knew they would meet again.

Her head tipped to the side dislodging her cascading curls, and she smiled freely in reply before her attention was commanded by one of her table mates and she turned away. He hoped he didn't imagine the air of reluctance she had shown to break their shared gaze.

Wrapped up in his silent communication with Hermione he hadn't seen the querying glances shot over his head. When he had sat at the table, he had taken his usual place between Filip and Mikhail, two boys he had dormed with since the first year. They were more like family to him than friends, having known him before he began his professional career they never treated him as anything other than a fellow student.

However, them knowing him so well also meant they had clocked his aberrant behaviour, as his intense admiring glance broke away from the Gryffindor table they took their opportunity to grill him.

"Who is the girl?" Filip began, thankfully in Bulgarian, so as not to alert the rest of the table to the nature of their discussion.

"Which girl?" he answered, attempting nonchalance as he turned his attention to the food on his plate.

"Don't play dumb Viktor it doesn't suit you" Mikhail added.

"That was incredibly fast work, we have only been here a few hours" Filip teased, elbowing him in the ribs "I like her hair, did you meet any of her friends that you could introduce us too?".

"I met her at the World Cup" Viktor reluctantly conceded, ignoring Filip's praise.

"Quidditch fan?" Mikhail queried.

"No" he laughed remembering her quiet words in the Minister's box, the others exchanged raised eyebrows "is nothing" he continued switching back to English, giving the signal that he was done with the conversation.

"Sure Victor, sure" Mikhail countered, an incredulous expression on his face, but neither boy pushed him further.

* * *

Establishing his typical routine took a little longer than Viktor had foreseen. At Durmstrang he was just a student, albeit one with extra responsibilities. He had assumed that he might get a few looks but the following of girls that trailed him everywhere, with rather dogged determination, was unsettling.

At the Institute, physical education was of vital importance, and both general fitness and combat skills were in the curriculum. Even if they hadn't been, his burgeoning career relied on his fitness; he ran daily. He found it very strange that no such programme existed at the British school, and yet despite their lack of formal education, it did not stop his flock of followers chasing after him as he paced the extensive grounds. Though running as if he had a pack of baying dogs on his heels did have its advantages... It made him run faster.

As he returned from his latest attempt at a peaceful run to get his bearings he was still looking over his shoulder and ran straight into Karkaroff. Thankfully not at full speed, he wasn't sure he ever wanted to discover what may have happened if he knocked the Headmaster clean over.

"Careful Victor" Karkaroff admonished.

"Sŭzhalyavam" he responded automatically.

"In English" his Headmaster tutted, exasperation leaking into his tone.

"Sorry," Viktor corrected. Karkaroff had been _insistent_ that they use this opportunity to perfect their English as much as possible, he knew he had a long way to go and was fully prepared to try but at some points, he forgot and reverted to his native language.

A shrill set of babbling giggles alerted him that the hunting party had caught up, a smirk crossed his Headmaster's face. "You should not run so fast Viktor, you are a man now, the idea is eventually to let one of them catch you." Karkaroff looked to the direction the noise was coming from before turning back to Viktor with a slight look of distaste pulling at his features, "though possibly… not by one of these."

* * *

Once he had made it back to the ship, he found Filip in their dorm looking proud of himself, which seven years worth of experiences had taught him was not normally a good sign.

"I have valuable information... that might save your legs" Filip began self-importantly.

"Da?" he answered, slightly bemused by Filip's phrasing, as he began to rifle through his trunk for his shower things.

"What I know is...girl… Hermy-O… Hermi-knee…. _Miss Granger_ " he huffed, with frustration that Viktor would have felt sympathy for had he not been thrown by him knowing her name.

"How did you know who…"

"Not important" Filip interrupted.

"But…" he tried to press but was cut off again.

"I know where she is when not in class" he finished with a flourish of his hands.

Viktor straightened, and his eyes narrowed on his friend, they had been pushing for information for days, and he knew he had been running a little more lately in the hopes that maybe he would see her but, he didn't want to admit that.

"No need to look so cross" Filip joked, smiling brilliantly, "I tell you, she spend time in the library".

* * *

The next day Viktor went in search of Hermione, leaving his friends after last class, they exchanged knowing looks that made him hate them both for a moment, but he shuffled off nevertheless saying he would meet them at dinner. The ribbing and endless taunts would be worth it if he got to see her.

He entered the quiet space, and as Filip had said she would be, there she was.

Hermione was stationed behind a table, probably big enough for four people, though she had commandeered most of the space and spread her things out in what looked like a highly organised form of chaos.

She was bent over a book, deep in concentration, one small hand splayed on the ancient looking tome the other clutching her quill determinedly, her delicate fingers covered in sizeable blotches of blue ink.

He was once again struck by how distinct she looked; he had never seen anyone that looked quite like her. He stopped in his tracks for a moment, merely to observe the small changes in her face as her eyes followed the words in the text. How she bit her bottom lip absentmindedly, an image he was beginning to find very distracting.

He marvelled as her eyebrows rose and her eyes gleamed as she stretched across the table to write something down furiously, pulling back the sleeve of the jumper she was wearing that was at least two sizes too big for her small form.

Desperate as he had been to speak to her he was almost loathed to disturb her, or to interrupt the beautiful tableau she presented.

Suddenly a chorus of giggles rang through the space, the harsh, grating sound disturbing the tranquillity and taking away his choice. He frowned at the group of girls at a nearby table, who were all making a relatively unconvincing display of reading.

Hermione looked up at the interruption and scowled in their direction before she spotted him, her eyes softened a fraction "Hello Mr Krum" she greeted politely. "How strange that I should see you here again" she continued with one eyebrow raised and he picked up on her silent query.

"I sorry, Durmstrang were coming but my place not positive until after World Cup". _Yes, I did know I would see you again. Otherwise, I would never have left without requesting permission to write to you_.

She smiled at him, and he took that for forgiveness. He gestured towards the chair opposite her, sitting down when she nodded, he decided that he could get away with some teasing of his own "I thought you had forgotten about me… thought you must be fixing boys noses every day".

"Hardly" she laughed, this laugh, so unlike those of his unwelcome shadows, it wasn't jarring in the slightest. "I meant to say hello, but I haven't seen you since your _dramatic entrance_ " she made a face, and he beamed at her "how are you enjoying Hogwarts so far?"

He ran his hand through his short hair, and it prompted a bout of sighs from the nearby table, he caught her rolling her eyes and felt the corner of his lips quirk in response.

"Ah... it's different" he answered honestly. He wanted to be more verbose, to engage her in a long conversation, about something, anything that she would find interesting. Something that would leave her as enticed by him as he was by her, but he had neither the grasp of the language or the nerve right now, though he was more than buoyed by her warm, open greeting. He had wondered for so long whether their previous conversation had been a mere fluke, a magic that could never be repeated. The hairs standing up on the back of his neck squashed those thoughts into dust.

Her eyes flickered to her book, and he remembered the intense concentration she had displayed when he entered. "I disturb you?" he probed gently.

"No, well yes… I suppose" she said apologetically "I need to finish something for transfiguration."

He glanced over at the book she was working from, "you are the fourth year, yes?"

"Yes," she confirmed.

"This is very advanced book," he said lifting his eyes again to meet her's across the table.

She blushed "It's an extra credit paper". Viktor felt further encouragement from her admission; he took his education and his career, everything, seriously. It was comforting that she clearly did too.

Any further conversation was halted by his little group of followers as they started whispering, loudly, he felt too much like he was threatening her progress to stay.

"Well I go now so you get work done," he said reluctantly.

"Thank you," she said murmured, and he grew even more irritated with the simpering girls as he picked up on her relief.

Unwilling to go without plans to see her again he stood from his seat and stepped next to her chair, so his words would not be overheard, "could I… could I study with you next time?"

"Yes, of course, there are some quieter tables around the back, near the muggle studies section, no one ever goes there so we would be quite alone… oh" she put her delicate hand in front of her mouth "I didn't mean" she stammered.

He coughed away his grin "is fine, I understand meaning" he placated, laying a hand gently on her shoulder as he spoke to reassure her and to give in to his desire to have some form of physical contact. "Bye Hermi-o-knee".

As he turned to leave he heard her say "your pronunciation is getting better", she had said it so quietly he wasn't sure he was supposed to have heard it. Viktor couldn't resist responding over his shoulder; "maybe if I need say it often, will get better still, yes?"

"Yes I suppose" so she sputtered out, he took in her flustered face and hoped he hadn't pushed her too far.

* * *

The next day Viktor entered the Great Hall flanked by Filip and Mikhail, the boys from Durmstrang had all agreed to place their names in the Goblet of Fire the same day and they were the last to arrive in the crowded hall.

As he took his turn, he removed the folded piece of parchment from his pocket and dropped it into the depths of the glowing cup. As he turned from his elevated position, he spotted Hermione quickly as she sat on the raised seats, a book resting on her knees. After sending her an intense glance he winked at her and watched with a growing sense of happiness as she looked down in an attempt to cover the blush over her cheeks.

He caught the eyes of a few of the other crimson-clad boys, none of them missing how he had singled her out, that was fine by him, they would all know his intentions towards that particular witch now. As they attended an all boys school a lot of the discussion in the lead up to the Tournament had been centred on the types of girls they were likely to meet. He had just sent a very clear sign that this particular girl was very off limits.

As he removed himself from the platform he spied the raised eyebrows of his Headmaster, and Viktor was sure he would be summoned for a _conversation_ soon.

* * *

 _A/N So, this one turned out to be all from Viktor's POV but going forward it will be split pretty evenly between him and Hermione. Let me know what you think._


	3. Part One - Chapter Two

_A/N Thank you to everyone reading, reviewing or adding to lists. Every notification is like a little ray of sunshine!_

* * *

Hermione wiped frustratedly at the curls that had escaped her loose ponytail huffing as she pushed them back behind her ear, the movement was futile; the wind was so strong she would be lucky if the ponytail itself remained in place. Against her better judgement she had been dragged down to the lake by a determined Harry and Ron, the unpredictable Scottish weather would soon give into the pull of winter, and it was, she conceded eventually, one of the last days they would be able to enjoy 'the outdoors'.

Reluctantly she had grabbed together her books and study material and made a home away from home for herself, perched on one of the large boulders that lined the shady part of the shore.

The boys, as was typical, had given up any pretence of work about four minutes after they arrived. Instead, they had been alternating between skipping stones, feigning attempts at throwing each other into the murky water and languishing next to her, bemoaning the amount of work they had to do, while not touching a single textbook.

By the end of the first hour Hermione had almost entirely tuned them out, so much so she almost missed it when Ron whispered 'Krum' while violently shaking Harry's arm. The rough action, and that he had to cut across her to do so,stripped away any stealth he might have gained from the uncharacteristic lowering of his voice.

She looked up on reflex, snapping her head in the direction Ron was looking. Sure enough, there was Viktor, flanked by two other boys from Durmstrang, all in training clothes, jogging past them. She caught his eye, only momentarily, and she thought she saw a ghost of a smile cross his features before his face pulled into a more serious expression.

She dropped her gaze back to the parchment in front of her, though she remained fixed on them in her peripheral vision. Once they had moved far enough away, she gave into the urge to glance up again only to look straight into the face of one of the boys who was running alongside Viktor. He gave her a small wave and a broad smile before Viktor bumped shoulders with him and they accelerated away.

Hermione's bemusement gave way quickly to a spike of concern, remembering that she was sat between the boys, _what would they have made of that interaction?_ When she looked around cautiously it appeared that neither had noticed anything, they were too deep in conversation concerning the best way of asking Viktor for his autograph.

"I don't know Ron… I'm not sure opening with a joke is the best idea; he doesn't exactly look like a barrel of laughs" Harry said.

Hermione's brow pinched.

"Your right mate, I better think of something before the twins do though… Can only imagine how much grief I would get off them if they got something and I didn't" Ron sighed.

 _Viktor didn't always look surly, did he?_ He always seemed perfectly pleasant when they had spoken, though admittedly that had only been on two occasions, which wasn't enough instances to judge when he was _always_ anything.

Hermione hadn't told her friends about meeting Viktor in the library, not because she was keeping it a secret exactly, primarily it was because she had never mentioned their previous conversation the night of the Word Cup final, in the Minister's box.

That first meeting has been truly bizarre, when he had disappeared with the rest of the players she had questioned whether anyone would believe her, after all; why had _he_ been talking to _her_?

Then the Death Eaters had attacked the campsite, and she forgot all about their private back and forth as she faced the sight of the poor muggles animated cruelly above the crowd before the sky had broken open to green spectral light.

The later events of that evening had haunted her dreams for so long, by the time her mind had filtered back to the injured Quidditch player Hermione had half convinced herself she might have imagined it after all. Once the memory had come back, it continued to poke at her awareness though she tried to forget it. If she was nothing else she was practical, their respective paths were never likely to cross again after all, or so she had thought.

Then he had shown up here.

Hermione wasn't totally sure how to process her feelings, yet she knew she was affected by Viktor, part of her knew she was keeping it to herself selfishly, as the boys would be _desperate_ to be introduced if told; maybe she just wanted to carry on their little bubble?

In the last year, she thought she had begun to have feelings for Ron, feelings beyond the silly crushes that had come and gone before. She shuddered as her mind supplied the coiffured image of Professor Lockhart.

No, her feelings for Ron were _different_. She tried especially hard to please him, help him with his homework, make him laugh... But none of it changed anything, he saw her as a friend. _Only a friend_.

She glanced up again to see the Durmstrang runners turning a corner, now visible on the other side of the lake. She took in their tall forms and uniform sportswear, nothing like that existed at Hogwarts; the Quidditch players wore full robes designed to combat all weathers. Hermione caught her train of thought and dropped her face forward until all of the escaped hair obscured her heated cheeks... _Had she ever looked at a boy in frank admiration before?_

* * *

By the time the Halloween Feast was upon them again, it felt almost normal to have the additions to the school. Both sets of visiting students were tutored separately, so she only saw them at meals and the end of classes.

Hermione had waited, _almost_ patiently, for this moment since she had seen Viktor put his name in the Goblet. It hadn't been a surprise. Obviously, all of the guests would want to compete and yet her emotions switched between hope and concern when she regarded the object that would decide his fate.

She considered that he would likely be upset if he wasn't selected, he must be a driven individual; you didn't become the best in the world at anything without tenacity. However, if he were to compete, he would likely be in a great amount of danger. Hermione quietly ruminated on his happiness versus her peace of mind as Dumbledore went through an unnecessary speech, she only returned her full attention with the Goblet began to glow, shooting white, speeding sparks into the air.

As the hall fell into silence another, larger, cascade left the cup blasting a folded square of parchment straight at the Headmaster.

He unfolded the charred paper "The Durmstrang Champion will be… _Viktor Krum_ " he called.

Cheers erupted from the Slytherin end of the room, and she looked across to see the two boys he had been running with patting him on the back while shouts of congratulations, and what she was assuming were some Bulgarian swear words came from the rest of their contingent. She applauded along with everyone else as Viktor raised from his seat to move out of the Great Hall for the Wand Weighing Ceremony. After learning they would be holding the tournament this year she had read up on the customs and processes and for once those around her listened with rapt attention as she explained the reason for his exit.

The Beauxbatons champion was next, Hermione hadn't spent much time with any of the blue-clad students, though as she had been identified to them as a student that spoke French she had spent a bit of time giving directions in the last few weeks.

After another whizzing beam had flown out and Fleur Delacour was announced as Champion. Though her selection evoked a less heartfelt response from her section.

A heavy hush fell over the room as the Goblet kindled again and the Headmaster wasted no time in reading the piece of parchment bearing Cedric Diggory's name.

Hermione couldn't help but smile and shake her head slightly in silent amusement as the tall boy untangled himself from the benches languidly, strolling up the hall as if he were on a catwalk, a slightly self-aware smile pulling across his beautiful features. Cedric could have been the poster boy for fair play and hard work if he was the Hogwarts champion all was right in the world.

The hall immediately erupted with excited chatter, now the desire to know who the competitors would be had been sated the students began to speculate on _what_ they would face, and debates broke out over _who_ would have the advantages.

Such was the distracted state of the room at large that no one noticed when the Goblet began to glimmer again, not until another piece of torn, battered parchment flew toward Dumbledore. Hermione's eyes assessed the teachers that they seemed as bewildered as she was made her heart rise in her throat.

By the time Harry's name had been called she had already been half shoving him towards the front of the room. If something unexpected was about to happen, of course, he would be in the centre of it. As he made it to the head table he turned and looked back at her, eyes blown wide with an expression of total terror.

Hermione sighed, _oh crap_.

* * *

Hermione rubbed her eyes as she sat down at the almost empty Gryffindor table for breakfast, she was thankful for the peace and quiet. The atmosphere of the common room the night before had been tense at best, and Ron and Harry's heated argument still lingered in her mind.

She had been shocked into silence by Ron's attack on their friend, once Harry had returned from the Headmaster's office, bewildered and grave she had expected the derision from everyone else but from Ron it stung. She assumed that he would have cut her out, had done so several times over, but never Harry.

Only Neville had stood beside her in Harry's defence; she was glad he would have at least one of his roommates on his side. Having shared a room with Lavender and Parvati for three years, she was well versed in the irritation caused by _sleeping with the enemy_.

After poking at her porridge disinterestedly for a while, she gave up and poured herself a second cup of coffee, pulling open The Daily Prophet. They certainly hadn't wasted any time in getting the word out about the previous evening's event.

The entire article seemed to centre on Harry, painting him as a child living with the crippling burden of his parent's deaths, preventing him from day to day function. The tone was hugely patronising, and Hermione felt her chest swell in indignation, she moved to throw the paper away from herself before she caught the picture.

The front page was dominated by the _Champion's Portrait_ , and her eyes were instantly drawn to Viktor, standing off to the side looking into the camera severely barely moving at all. His look put her in mind of when she had first seen him, his face peering out of flags at the World Cup. Somehow the image he presented did not match up to the measure of him she had in her mind. Her eyes scanned the article for mention of him but there was only a very short note right at the end, and in that his name had been spelt wrong.

Finally folding the paper away she made to leave but paused when Harry shuffled into the quiet space, his eyes assessing the tables before he spotted her, moving to fold in next to her on the empty benches.

"Morning" she spoke kindly, omitting the _good_ , he looked worse than she felt.

In response he dropped his head into his hands "Hermione you have to help me" he groaned.

She placed a hand on his back in what she hoped was a comforting gesture "of course, Harry".

* * *

As the large wooden doors of the library swung closed behind her, Hermione felt her shoulders sag with relief. She closed her eyes and breathed in the comforting smell of parchment before moving determinedly towards the back windows where the Muggle Studies section was located. She dropped her outer robes and bag, staking her claim on a table before trooping around the shelves to pick up the books she needed.

Though Viktor had asked to study with her she hadn't seen him in the library for about a week, they hadn't specified a day or time, _she reminded herself regularly_. It wasn't like she was angry, or even disappointed, though she didn't analyse why she sat at these tables rather than her preferred ones by Transfiguration.

Not much later Hermione was engrossed in her Ancient Runes homework. The translation question was complicated, and she had made several mistakes and was now sat with her book resting on her thighs as she made notes on the piece of parchment placed on the table in front of her. When a heavy bag was dropped into the seat next to her, the unexpected noise made her jump so abruptly she nearly left her seat.

"Sorry… sorry" Viktor said, looking genuinely remorseful, as she held her hand to her chest while attempting to return her breathing back to normal "I not used to sneaking on people… not very balanced on the ground" he smiled apologetically and she found herself returning it.

"I still allowed to sit here?" he asked in a playful tone.

She folded her arms across herself, meaning to respond in kind "I'm not sure, as you can see there isn't much space."

Viktor's eyes fell to the desk, strewn with books and countless rolls of parchment "I see you need table for many people" he took two steps away from her pointing back towards the main doors "I could ask students in other places, make more space?" he responded laughing.

"Oh just sit down" she stuttered, already feeling a little out of her depth. She knew her face would already be the colour of a ripe tomato; she couldn't carry on this spirited discourse without risking passing out, she was very unused to attention of this kind.

He sat down _next_ to her, not _across_ from her as she had been expecting and she jerked forward to make him some space, starting slightly when their arms brushed as he tried to help her. They both laughed, her nervously and backed away.

They were silent for a moment while Viktor pulled out his materials and set up his workspace. Hermione wanted to say something, anything really, she was never short of words but his proximity was discombobulating her. _Had he always been so large?_

She flushed again as he turned towards her, catching her eyes wandering over his shoulders and she sputtered out congratulations for his selection for the TriWizard, hoping to distract him from her ogling.

"Thank you, was very pleased," he said before smirking at her "I was hoping to ask you to cheer for me but know you friends with Potter."

"Yes I am, Harry is, well he is a very important friend of mine and not many people are talking to him at the moment, he needs my support".

Viktor looked a little sullen for an instant and was watching her so intently she felt the need to look away "You look sad" he said finally.

She smiled wanly, discomposed by his keen observation. "I'm just tired, it was a long night… after the feast there were arguments in the common room and my best friends aren't talking."

"Boy with red hair is… Friend?" Viktor asked her.

"Yes" she confirmed, and Viktor's smile looked a little less false. "He is, but everyone, _including him_ , thinks Harry put his name into the Goblet, and Ron is annoyed because he thinks Harry did it without telling him so that he could keep all the _glory_ to himself" she rattled off before wincing… "Sorry, I didn't mean just to whine at you."

"Hermi-oknee stop apologising, he should believe friend. Karkaroff not happy about extra Hogwarts student but boy's face.." Viktor looked to be struggling with the words, "he did not look like boy who was wanting to be there".

"Thank you" she whispered, slightly taken aback by his ease of understanding.

Looking to distract from her awkward offloading on him she tried to change the subject. "What are you working on?."

"Charms.." He pointed to a rough looking leather bound book that showed a week view calendar, it was so full, even by Hermione's standards, she rose her eyebrows, sure enough under today's date was a light blue bar with Charms and what must have been the Bulgarian word for it written within.

"That's a lot of work," she said almost reverently.

"Da… School, Quidditch, now tournament" he licked his lips not taking his eyes off the planner, before continuing "I wanted come see you… before now… but…"

"... It's ok" she interrupted quickly not liking his discomfort, she screwed up all of her courage and placed a hand on his forearm "I can see you are busy" she soothed, or at least attempted to. As she reluctantly moved her hand away she eyed an interesting looking text on the desk in front of them and her hands almost moved of their own volition with the urge to touch it, "what's this?" she inquired excitedly.

"Charms text for the seventh years at Durmstrang" he answered absentmindedly before taking in her expression and smiling indulgently before pushing it towards her.

Hermione tugged the tome closer and opened the hardcover, eyes wide with the hope of new information. She had often wondered how the syllabus at the other schools would have varied from her own, _was it harder? More theoretical or practical?_ As she ran her hand over the contents page, Viktor leant over her to tap the top of the book with his wand and the Bulgarian script melted away to reveal English words

"Wordless translation charm? Very impressive Mr Krum" she said primly, biting her lip to hide the smile that threatened.

He snorted before pointing to his head "not just Quidditch up here."

Generally by this stage after an interruption of her study time she would want to dig back into whatever she was doing but this time she didn't. The lure of Ancient Runes wasn't strong at all, which perplexed her greatly, she _loved_ Runes.

But, she'd had a horrible day and it wasn't likely to improve anytime soon, something about Viktor's presence made her feel… Comforted, listened too.

Her mind slipped back to her internal monologues from the previous evening, while she had watched him celebrate as he was essentially placed in mortal peril. Not knowing when she might get the chance to have a quiet conversation with him again she decided to probe.

"Can I ask you why you entered? The Tournament I mean."

If she wasn't mistaken the apple of his cheeks pinked, but it was gone a moment later.

"I like competition, Durmstrang trains you to be best. Want people to know I am _more_ than sports. I like challenge and I… I wanted to see another school" he finished softly.

It was one of the longest sentences he had spoken in her hearing; Hermione wondered if that was down to him being typically quiet or the language barrier. His accent was strong but not as rough as it had been when they met, through his nose had been broken then so that would clearly have had an impact

She nodded, "but what about the dangers aren't you scared?"

Viktor raised an eyebrow, shifting in his chair to face her "Why?...you worried about me?"

"Yes," she answered automatically, too caught up in his closeness and his firm gaze to filter her response. When her confirmation registered, she dropped her eyes. "Well of course I am.. I'm worried about all of the competitors" she stammered. _Smooth Hermione, real smooth._

When she dared to raise her eyes, it was to see Viktor shift forward, tilting his head so close to hers their cheeks almost touched, she felt his breath on the shell of her ear "I am little scared" he whispered, "but don't tell anyone."


	4. Part One - Chapter Three

_A/N somehow this little story already has over 100 reviews, my mind is totally boggled, but I love, love, love your feedback so please keep it coming :)_

* * *

From that first day of studying together in the library, a routine of sorts had been established. Viktor would excuse himself when it was possible after his classes had ended, and spend the hour before dinner working side by side with Hermione. He wished that he had more time to offer, but he didn't, that they seemed to be able to spend what little time he had, mostly undisturbed, gave him enough respite to not complain, well at least not too much.

Despite Hermione's reaction to his planner he could tell that the girl had enough of her own to be getting on with, when he arrived at the little table at the back, he had come to think of as _theirs_ , she would frequently be working on more than one project at once. He admired the way she seemed to slip from one task to the next with liquid ease.

Hermione took a genuine interest in his studies and asked him all kinds of questions about his home and life outside of school. She never pried, in fact, all of the personal information she was now in possession of was information he had freely given her. Somehow their continued meetings had eased his fears of speaking at length around her; he had no illusions that he had suddenly become eloquent, simply that he was no longer overly concerned about making the occasional mistake. It was all so different to anything he had ever experienced before. His inner circle was small, and he did not trust easily, his fame at a young age had made him somewhat jaded in the face of attentions from people he didn't know, but not her.

Viktor smiled in memory as he walked deeper into the bowels of the ship, those little conversations were becoming increasingly precious to him. Karkaroff had collared him before classes that morning and asked to meet him before dinner, though polite words were used, they were both aware he wasn't _asking_ at all. Viktor remembered looking into the Headmaster's face when he had put his name into the Goblet of Fire. They hadn't had an entirely private session since then, he was sure Karkaroff would want to discuss the first task, but he was confident he wouldn't miss this opportunity to bring up Hermione.

His relationship with Karkaroff had historically been relatively good, there wasn't another kind of relationship to be had with the man, you found a way to get on with him, or you left the school, it was as simple as that.

With a heavy heart, Viktor stood before the imposing office door and knocked, once he heard the voice from within bid him enter he promptly walked through, shutting the door behind him and presenting himself in front of Karkaroff's desk, standing ramrod straight and looking directly ahead. Presentation was important to a man like the Headmaster; they were trained to stand in such a way from the first year, as a mark of respect and to show they were ready to receive instruction, what education he would receive on this occasion Viktor was not yet aware.

Karkaroff was much more comfortable, leant back into his ornate office chair. Without the addition of the furs, he wore everywhere you could tell that he was a thin man, no less imposing without the added bulk, with dark hair and dark assessing eyes he could be the stuff of nightmares for the younger boys, and even some of the older never got over their fear.

Karkaroff placed both his elbows on the arms of his chair linking his hands together in front of him "dragons" he said calmly, and Viktor's eyes snapped to his.

"You are certain?" he asked, usually he wouldn't have dared question the Headmaster, but it wasn't every day you were informed you were going up against a dragon.

"Yes, I have seen them" he answered dispassionately.

"Do others…"

"All of the others know" the Headmaster cut him off, he wouldn't put it passed Karkaroff to lie hoping to give Durmstrang the advantage, but he had no real way of testing the truth.

Viktor nodded.

"I expect you to work on your options for getting past the creature" Karkaroff commanded firmly.

"Yes Sir" he responded automatically, already mentally compiling a list of books he would need to read through.

"While you are here" the Headmaster continued, and Viktor signed internally "I have noticed your _very marked_ attention to a girl from Hogwarts school" he began smoothly.

"Yes Sir"

"She is muggleborn," Karkaroff said as if testing him for his reaction.

"I am aware" Viktor returned decidedly, almost daring the man to say more. In fact, he hadn't been, not totally, but _magic or no magic_ had turned over in his mind. It was probably one of the reasons she was so unique. Even if he had cared about something so ridiculous as blood, which he didn't, he was sure meeting her would have changed those beliefs, _how could they hold up when faced with someone as brilliant as she was?_

Karkaroff regarded him through narrowed eyes "I would remind you Viktor of the paramount importance we place on the secrets of our esteemed school". His tone shifting from flowing silk to satin over jagged rocks.

"We do not talk of Durmstrang" Viktor asserted, again another slight lie, but they had never talked about it in the way the Headmaster was suggesting, Hermione had asked about the school insomuch as it related to his life, not its supposed secrets. Viktor was sure he would be able to tell the difference; he had endured enough conversations with people trying to ascertain his financial worth subtly after all.

He turned to face Karkaroff, there was no way he would have summoned him here with one objection, there would be more, arranged usually in increasing severity as his argument continued.

The Headmaster sat forward, seemingly unconcerned by his lack of reaction to his previous point. "Viktor this is a _competition_ , an important one, the girl you have chosen is close friends with Harry Potter."

"She can be friends with both" Viktor offered, he had satisfied himself of the same, he wasn't an idiot, what was he going to do if he won the girl? Lock her in a tower where she had no access to friends of any kind. She had already said she would be cheering for both of them, _what difference did it make if they were friends?_ Viktor was surprised he didn't have any reaction to Karkaroff's assertion that he had _chosen her_ , his word choice had been deliberate, such connotations had a wider meaning in pureblood society, but Viktor had not so much as flinched.

The Headmaster turned his head to the side, and there was a gleam in his eyes that warned Viktor that whatever card he was still holding he considered he had a winning hand.

"She _knows_ about the dragons for the first task, did she tell you?" he asked softly, almost enquiring, not that Viktor was fooled by the hint of concern he had injected into his voice.

Viktor worked hard to school his features, meetings like these with Karkaroff were like playing chess and poker all at once, you had to think three steps ahead and push down any emotional response.

"She did not" he answered, struggling for impassivity, his mind whirred, _why hadn't she told him about them?_ _Did she want him to lose against Potter? She had said his friendship was a very important one…_

Karkaroff smiled "this is a _competition_ Viktor, _associating_ with this girl could ruin your chances, especially if she already has a _vested interest_ in someone else" the Headmaster didn't quite hide his malicious glee as he rammed his point home.

"I understand concerns" Viktor stated firmly, desiring to get out of the office and deal with his emotions in private.

"But it will not affect your actions?"

"It will not" he stated just as firmly, whatever the Headmaster thought he would speak to Hermione before he questioned her motives, he didn't have the full picture yet.

Karkaroff suddenly looked much graver "there are dark times ahead Viktor, times when it would be difficult for a pureblood family, _an old pureblood family_ such as yours to be associated with a person of... _questionable birth_ "

Viktor bit down the retort that burned in his throat, the retort he would have been able to give, Professor and student relationship notwithstanding if he had an understanding with Hermione. He might have said something anyway had he not belatedly picked up on the subtle change of tone in the Headmaster's address. The first part of this meeting had been about show and point scoring, getting him to accede and move away from a situation that Karkaroff found undesirable. But this, there was a genuine warning in this message, whatever it was, from the tension in his shoulders, the Headmaster was genuinely concerned about it.

"Thank you for worry" he attempted, pushing past the rawness of his throat, sticking to as few words as possible so as not to be engaged further.

Karkaroff eyed him for a long time "I will do nothing to further about this… _situation_. Though I will remind you, as I would tell any _boy_ in front of me that you have a responsibility to act like a gentleman….And remember she is young."

Viktor nodded and with a slight bow was dismissed.

As soon as he left the Headmaster's quarters he raced to his own; he needed to get a letter to his parents as soon as possible, he wouldn't put it past Karkaroff to contact them to outline his concerns. Not that Viktor perceived any problems from that quarter but if his mother found out he had serious designs on a witch from someone other than himself he would likely be buried under the sea of howlers she would send.

* * *

Viktor stood in the 'champions tent' restlessly considering whether the word could be applied to four jittery teenagers. He had attempted sitting down several times but had jumped up soon after, feeling the need to pace off some of his excess energy. This was the part he hated most, _the waiting_. It always felt the same, the calm before the storm, he could feel the need to move itch across his skin, his legs twitched, he just wanted things to get going.

Every time the tent door fluttered he could hear the noises from the crowd outside, the sound booming in the silent space. In the quiet he could hear the November chill battling against the fabric of the roof, the cold biting into his limbs was almost entirely ignored as his heart began to race.

Adding to the ratcheting tension was the vile reporter from The Daily Prophet who was circling them all like a smiling shark attempting to pass herself off as a harmless guppy. Her lurid green robes whipping back and forth between the champions began to make Viktor feel like he might be sick.

The four of them mainly kept themselves to themselves; he hadn't had much time in their company, and this was hardly the time to begin getting to know each other. Those first warm smiles once they had been selected had faded as soon as Potter had hesitantly made his way into the designated room and announced he would be the fourth champion, so far they had not returned.

They were all l too busy mentally preparing to establish a conversation with each other now.

The door flap opened again and four heads snapped in that direction only to find it wasn't the TriWizard Committee that they were all looking forward and dreading to see in equal measure but Hermione. She was bundled up against the cold in a large woolly hat and chunky red scarf; her cheeks pinked from the bracing wind.

She wasn't supposed to be there, but he wasn't going to complain. He hadn't seen her since he had spoken to Karkaroff, not by design. He needed to talk to her to get some inclining of what she might feel, if anything, for him. Despite his uncertainty, the sight of her still soothed his nerves in a way he didn't understand.

Viktor's eyes followed her as she made a bee-line for Potter and he felt a twinge of jealousy until he saw the green look in the boy's face. How Karkaroff could think Harry was a genius who had tricked the cup to take part, he would never know.

Hermione pulled the younger boy into a fierce hug and he showed no signs of pushing her off, they remained motionless for a second before she let him go and began fussing over him; straightening out his robes. She seemed to be talking in an almost constant stream that he couldn't hear until she got to the end.

"Good luck Harry… You are going to be brilliant" he could hear it in her tone then, the regard she had for the boy, but unless he was mistaken it seemed familial, there was no averting of eyes or secret smiles like she had when they spoke.

"Sure Hermione" Harry bit back with a sarcastic edge to his voice that was no doubt brought on by fear "I'll be lucky to make it out alive."

"Well that would be a start" she replied, ignoring his harshness "if you do nothing else never believe that I wouldn't be pleased with that."

Her joking raised a slight smile to Harry's face and it was then that Viktor took a step closer, she looked like she was ready to leave and, as ever, he was reluctant for that to happen. Catching sight of him she turned that reassuring gaze in his direction. "Good luck" she spoke in a quieter voice, it was strange talking to her in front of all these people.

Their relationship existed when it was just the two of them, like a secret they both had, he suspected they both had their reasons for not wanting to share their familiarity.

"You not going to straighten my robes too?" He cooed his words only for her ears.

She flushed, but her full mouth pulled into a smile "I better be going."

The little bubble that always seemed to form around them was broken by Cedric Diggory who apparently wanted to utilise a bit of the distraction for his anxiety "Leaving already Granger? I was expecting we would all get a tearful send off" he called across the tent.

Viktor didn't like her being called by her surname but knew enough about Hermione to let her fight her battles, while in her line of sight at least. He watched as she pivoted to face the tall boy clad in yellow "You're right Cedric" she said sweetly before she turned again "Fleur" she called out lightly "very best of luck."

The blonde laughed at her, Cedric put on a very fake pout and Viktor marvelled, she had come in and somehow, without even trying, had broken all of the tension. _Was this what it would be like?_ He wondered, if she visited before his Quidditch games, would she carry away all of the strain with a soft look or a few words?

While he was lost in his own thoughts of a possible future Hermione tried to make a quick exit only to be blocked by Dumbledore and the rest of the Triwizard Contingent entering, much as she sought to make herself invisible she was spotted quickly and sent very happily on her way. His eyes tracked her to the door where she paused for a second, turning to make eye contact with him 'stay safe' she mouthed at him 'I will try' he responded.

* * *

Before long it was just Viktor and Harry in the tent, he had debated opening a conversation with the other boy several times but had not pursued it, Potter looked slightly past speech at that point.

When Barty Crouch Sr had arrived none of the champions had looked surprised at the mention of dragons, at least Karkaroff had not been lying about that, he didn't need to feel guilt at an unfair advantage on top of everything else.

Viktor was third to pick from the bag and the tiny dragon representing the Chinese Fireball climbed onto his hand, picking him more than the other way around. Viktor regarded the intricate piece of charm and transfiguration work with some amusement, the dragon he picked wasn't going to make a difference to the plan he had prepared.

When the gun sounded he stopped to lay a firm hand on Harry's shoulder before stepping from the tent into the arena, he hadn't had the opportunity to see it till now. The rocky terrain floor was lined with deep stone walls, the cheering of the crowd seeming far away as he could just make out the other students perched on terraces that seemed way above where he was standing.

A flash of red crossed his eye line, and he came face to face or rather face to snout with the Chinese Fireball for the first time, he had imagined the dragon would be big, but nothing had prepared him for just how vast the creature was. Running at full tilt, he made it behind a high rock formation that still afforded him a vantage point over the rest of the arena; he observed the dragon twist around low in the sky for several seconds before it retreated to a high stack of boulders on the other side. Deducing that was a likely guess for the nest he waited until the Fireball took flight again before storming in that direction.

He had just made it when the Fireball swooped back down, light glimmering over its red and gold scales. Viktor aimed the Conjunctivitis Curse into its protruding eyes the first clean shot he got; this was no time for showboating he wanted to get out of their as soon as possible. The momentary blindness gave him enough time to snatch up the golden egg, but he did not factor in the dragon's rage and stepped back quickly as the creature smashed the remaining eggs in a fit of temper.

As he secured the egg in his grasp, a claxon rang out and suddenly fifteen or so wizards appeared from all directions, coming forward to subdue the dragon, and Viktor was hurried off to the side, taken into a corridor and emerging into another tent.

He took in the sight of a slightly charred Fleur and Cedric and the three exchanged quick congratulations and shared stories over what approaches they had used.

"I took on a dragon," Cedric said a few moments later, sounding completely awestruck "and I'm not dead."

The tension felt somewhat lifted now, this might be a competition, as Karkaroff saw fit to remind him almost daily, but it didn't stop him from respecting his fellow competitors.

* * *

The day after the task Viktor was keen to get out of the confines of the wooden boat as soon as possible. He loved the old ship but at times it could feel like the panels themselves were beginning to close in on you. Filip and Mikhail had been ecstatic about his performance though Filip's jubilant calls that he had won the first task where called short by both himself and the Headmaster correcting him by saying 'tied'. Karkaroff had not been the biggest fan of Hogwarts or Harry Potter's involvement in the tournament in the first instance, now that he had tied with Viktor in first place he was nearly incandescent with rage.

Following the Headmaster's disapproval, his friends had attempted, as much as was possible to coax him out of his bad mood. Filip had decided the best way of doing this was to enact the entire event vividly, even playing the parts of the respective dragons. Mikhail slightly more helpfully had a list of notes about the strengths and weaknesses of all of the other entrants.

Viktor had never been gladder that it was Sunday.

As he landed on the bank of the lake he was additionally glad to find there were few people around to take in his tired face; he had no time for the girls chasing him around the grounds today. Cupping his hands over his eyes to shield from the early morning sun he spotted who he was looking for, perched under a tree not far from where he was standing, she was leafing through a book that was balanced on her crossed legs.

As he walked towards Hermione, he looked back in the direction he had come from, realisation dawning that she was sat in full view of the ship. _Had that been on purpose?_

She looked up as he got close, his shadow having blocked the sun from her spot. "I was coming to find you" he started, "I thought you would be in the library" he finished before dropping down next to her, their frequent time together had made him no longer wait for invitations to join.

"I'm not always there" she replied, a little defensively

"Hermio-nee, I was not criticising" he clarified, he didn't want to argue with her.

He watched as she nodded before closing her book and turning to face him "I wanted to see you too, that's why I… why I sat here" her voice tailed off "I wanted to see how you were after yesterday."

He tried to hide his smile at his suspicions being confirmed "tired, sore but fine."

"Good… that's, good" she responded awkwardly.

Silence fell around them, and Viktor leant his head back against the tall tree letting his eyes fall closed. "You were amazing" Hermione's voice floated over to him "using the curse on the Fireball was a brilliant idea."

He felt pride at her praise but also some of the residual soreness from Karkaroff's comments came to the front of his mind as she had brought up the dragons. He opened his eyes again rolling his head to face her, she too was braced against the tree wearing the same scarf from the day before, now that his mind was no longer scrambled he could see the word 'Potter' knitted up the length.

"New scarf?" he said a little more bitterly than he had intended.

"Yes," she replied, either not picking up on his tone or choosing to ignore it "I made it, I've been doing a lot of knitting for reasons…. I probably don't need to go into. Anyway, I made this to wear for Harry as a show of support" he nodded, he wasn't really annoyed, though he was a little cross with himself for being short with her.

She pushed herself away from the tree "you promise not to laugh at me?" she asked shyly.

"Da?" he confirmed, bemused by her expression.

She pulled at the scarf taking it off her neck and turned it over before laying it across her lap. At first glance Viktor didn't see what she was trying to show him, but then he noticed the colour on this side was deeper, just enough, it was not the jewel-like ruby tone of Potter's colour but the earthy crimson red of his tunic, in the corner was a tiny Durmstrang Badge and the initials V.K. in gold stitching.

"You were supporting me?" he asked when he could find his voice.

"Of course, I was… not that you need it" she answered primly. "I'm sure your little fan club we're all supporting you" her face dropped to her lap and remembering he was a man of instincts he reached forward to place his hand over one of her small ones where it rested on her knee. She gasped slightly at the contact but didn't move, feeling emboldened he slipped his thumb under her fingers till he was massaging her soft palm in wide, slow circles.

"They do not know me Hermio-nee… not like… not like you."

The silence returned for a while, though this one felt tenser, neither had looked back up but neither had moved their hand away either so he decided to call it a victory.

"What did you want to see me about?" Hermione said finally; she was a little breathless, but Viktor did not mention it.

Reluctantly moving his hand away he reached into the small bag he had brought along with him, smiling when he felt the now familiar prickles against his skin. Reaching his hand back over into Hermione's lap he pulled her two hands together and deposited the small animated Fireball into her grasp.

The little dragon paced in a circle before rubbing the gold scales that lined its snout against Hermione's thumb as if it was nuzzling in before promptly curling up in the centre of her open palms and falling asleep, its tail wagging softly as soft grey clouds puffed from its tiny nose.

"For me?" she asked brightly.

Viktor nodded "magic will last for a couple more days, is already wearing off, a lot better temper than when we first met," he said thought he flashed his eyes at the sleeping dragon. The little Fireball had bitten him no less than ten times, though had become as peaceful as a rabbit under Hermione's care.

Hermione smiled at him; her eyes looked wide and glassy, radiating pure joy, he felt his chest constrict, his mind whispered that the look she gave him made him feel more like a champion than getting the egg, he didn't want to break the moment, but he had to ask.

"Hermio-nee, did you know about dragons?"

She stilled slightly before dropping the tiny Fireball onto her skirt and reaching forward herself, faltering, this time, she took his hand in her own, moving it towards her and running a finger gently over the lines of his palm.

"I would have told you; I only found out a few days before, and Harry insisted he had seen Karkaroff there and that you would know… you did know didn't you?"

"Da" he confirmed, he let the concern in her tone wash away the last of her worries.

"Plus I didn't want to interfere" she continued "Clearly you can handle these things on you own," she said smiling slightly.

He sensed there was more to what she was saying, but he didn't want to push it, she would tell him if she wanted to.

Her small hand still in his he leant forward to tuck an escaped curl behind her ear "so you know if there is another time when I meet dragon you can _interfere_ " he said raising his eyebrows and she giggled at him.

The melodic sound woke the slumbering Fireball whose only response was to shuffle from its position on the edge of her skirt till he had pushed himself under the bottom of her jumper.

 _Bloody dragons._


	5. Part One - Chapter Four

Hermione woke up reluctantly on the Monday following the First Task; her eyes blinked slowly as she pushed up onto her arms. She wasn't used to such procrastination in the mornings, but she had been having such a lovely dream replaying her morning by the lake with Viktor. In her dream, she remained perfectly articulate, didn't stutter or hesitate and her cheeks remained resolutely blush-free.

As she rolled herself up and put her feet on the chilly stone floor, she heard a soft snort indicating the tiny Fireball was also up and prowling around. After he (she had no idea how to sex a dragon, if of course this one was even _that exact_ , but had arbitrarily decided it was a he) had spent most of yesterday asleep Hermione had brought him back to the dorm with no idea what to do with him next. She had searched around fruitlessly for a while until inspiration had struck and she emptied a draw from her nightstand to turn it into a makeshift bed for the tiny creature.

Viktor had said the magic wouldn't last much longer, and it seemed he was right, already the dragon's wings were stiffer preventing flying, and his movements seemed more limited. She had managed to keep him hidden for now, but she knew that wouldn't last long, not with Lavender and Parvati sharing her dorm, and then the questions would start, it wasn't as if many people could have given her a small transfigured dragon.

As Hermione dressed, she considered it was probably time to bring in some outside help, maybe not just with the Fireball but with Viktor in general. She had conceded to herself yesterday, at the same moment that he reached forward to place a curl of hair behind her ear, that she was in over her head. He made her feel nervous in a good way, in a way that didn't make much sense, she spent half of her time wishing to speak to him again and the other half hoping he would stay away because of how unsettled she felt in his presence.

For the relocation of the winged beast, she needed cunning, and for help with boys or rather just one specific _almost man_ she needed someone brash. In short, she needed Ginny.

* * *

Despite her hesitancy in relinquishing the covers that morning, Hermione still found herself at breakfast long before most people had even begun to open their eyes. That was nothing unusual, though it was out of the ordinary to find she had been beaten to the table by Harry.

Over the last few weeks while he had been treated with either silence or scorn by most of the school Harry had taken to coming to meals early and sitting with her, though she had assumed given the events of the weekend that things would have gone back to normal now.

It appeared that the sight of Harry battling an _actual dragon_ was enough for most people to realise that a fourth year, even one as rash as her best friend, would never have put their name in the goblet. That small realisation seemed to make all of the other arguments herself, and Neville had been making for the last month sink home. After all, if the Twins hadn't been able to find a way to bypass the ageline Dumbledore had constructed how would he been able to.

The smile that lit up her face at the continuation of their new routine fell when she took in Harry's countenance; he looked grave, but when their eyes met he became distinctly twitchy.

"What's wrong?" she asked, as she joined him on the bench noticing he hadn't put any food on his plate.

Harry sighed, a sound that unfortunately she was very familiar with "this" he answered resigned and pushed the folded up Daily Prophet that had been in front of him over to her.

She unfurled it in her hands, but it was a moment before she took her eyes of his anxious face, when she looked down it was to be greeted with another Skeeter article. If the last one had painted Harry as a broken child to be pitied this one seemed more inclined to invoke the image of a tragic hero fighting against the injustices of his _difficult_ start in life. Her eyes scanned down the page falling on a picture of her with Harry in the middle; it would appear that this fictional Harry was not just a tragic hero but one with a muggle-born girlfriend, _her_.

 _Harry Potter [13, last of Scion of the House of Potter] fought bravely against the exceptionally ferocious Hungarian Horntail at Saturday's event, the First Task if the newly re-established TriWizard Tournament. Though those that know him have said that for a person like Harry, haunted as he is by ghosts of his past, this fight was nothing when compared to battling emotional demons as he does on a daily basis._

 _There does seem to be one bright spot for young Harry, in the form of Hermione Granger who this reporter has exclusively discovered is the girlfriend of the chosen one. Hermione, a plain, muggleborn witch who favours conservative and uninspiring dress is in his year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. As can be seen from the main photo the young witch was there to wish_ _ **her**_ _champion good luck before this most prestigious of events._

 _Whether she is worthy of such a high profile role within his life remains to be seen, though we will be contacting Miss Granger for further comment._

Oh, crap.

"Well," Hermione said, trying for a bright tone that she didn't feel, as she resisted the urge to rip the parchment into confetti "what would a week at Hogwarts be without ritual humiliation?" Harry tried to smile at her in response, but it was as wan as her tone was brittle.

So wrapped up in their next disaster neither noticed Ginny walking into the hall and taking the seat opposite them.

"What's got you two looking so defeated?" the redhead inquired, pouring herself a large cup of coffee, Ginny, like the many Weasley siblings that had preceded her was not a morning person.

Hermione, replicating Harry's move from earlier, wordlessly pushed the sadly still intact Prophet in front of her friend. It took several moments to notice that Ginny's shoulders were shaking behind the article, and she gasped loudly before dropping the parchment obscuring her face to look back at them.

"She is honestly reporting that you two" she waved a hand between Hermione and Harry needlessly "are a couple?"

Hermione winced "it would appear so" she confirmed.

"Oh don't look like someone's stolen your favourite quill, Hermione, no one is going to believe this" Ginny said firmly.

"Really?" Hermione asked. Honestly, she hadn't thought people would believe it though she could hardly admit sat right there at the table that she had been more nervous about Ginny's reaction than what the rest of the school had to say.

"Please," Ginny continued rolling her eyes "there's more sexual tension between Snape and Dumbledore then there is between you two."

"Urgh" Harry retched into his orange juice and Hermione covered her smile, feeling content for once to not remind her friend to use the teacher's professional monikers.

Tension lifted Hermione sought the opportunity to move on to her other issue, "Ginny, have you got time before class? I need a quick favour."

* * *

Hermione stood at the side of her bed with Ginny at her heels in the otherwise empty dorm; she leant forward to pull the disused pillow case from the top of the draw that she had left the night before.

"So" she began falteringly "I need a bit of help…. hiding this... and I thought you might be able to... well, what do you think?"

Ginny's eyes widened as she took in the tiny sleeping Fireball and a moment later realisation was evident on her face.

"Oh, I believe that you've been holding out on me Hermione" she replied as her face broke into a broad smile.

* * *

Harry's mood had not improved by their second class of the morning, while the Gryffindors were seemingly on his side now there was still an awful lot of the 'Potter Stinks' badges around and many of the students wearing them were quoting, _loudly_ , from that morning's article. That she was getting the same treatment did not bother her too much, almost from the day herself and Harry had become friends she had some share in the trials he had undertaken at school. Hermione wondered what the year could have been like if Harry had not been named a champion. Thinking of champions made her think of Viktor, and she bit her lip to hold in a groan. She had been lost in thought all morning, wondering if he had seen the article. She had explained her relationship with Harry before but what if he still got the wrong idea? She could explain it to him again she supposed, but that brought up a worse consideration, _what if he didn't care either way?_

Hermione had been taken aback by just how many people seemed to believe the paper, sure; she spent most of her time with either one or both of the boys, but they were only friends, she thought people knew that.

Ron had been touchy since he had seen the paper himself and as the rift in their friendship had only just been healed it seemed Harry wanted to go out of his way to make sure they weren't headed for another argument, and as such had been avoiding being anywhere close to her since breakfast. She understood his reasoning, but it wasn't her fault Skeeter had decided to print a picture and fabricate the words around it, she wouldn't have even gone back to the champion's tent if she didn't think Harry was dealing with the weight of no one believing him on top of everything else.

In Transfiguration, she absorbed herself into the lesson and tried to avoid dwelling any further on her frustrations from the day though no matter how hard she concentrated she couldn't lose the wing lustre from the crow she had been given as she turned it into a bowl.

Fifteen minutes before the end of the class Professor McGonagall called for their attention "As many of you will know as we have the privilege to host the TriWizard Tournament this year we are also obligated to uphold many traditions that have marked the event over the years," she began crisply. A pin drop could have been heard in the classroom, her Professor speaking would normally be enough to ensure silence, but the potential for more news on the competition had all of her audience on the edges of their seats. "All of these are designed to further the overall goal of the Tournament; to foster better relations between magical schools in the hope that international wizarding communities will become further linked in successive generations. The most important of these traditions is the Yule Ball, this event will be held on Christmas Day where there will be a formal dinner and of course _dancing_."

A groan left the boys in the room at the same time as an excited titer rose up around her, Hermione could hear several of the girls in the back row already talking animatedly between themselves. Hermione remained silent, though her mind involuntarily slipped to a crimson tunic worn over broad shoulders, she pushed the thought away less her face start to redden.

She fidgeted in her seat while her Professor explained about the upcoming dance lessons before rushing out of the door as soon she could, she wanted to get a chance to send a letter to her Mum before lunch.

* * *

It was lunchtime that day before Viktor had seen the article, as he was not a native of the country and was still struggling somewhat with the language barrier he hadn't taken an active interest in reading the paper but when Mikhail sat next to him on the Slytherin benches, he dropped the rolled-up parchment into his lap.

"Front page" was all he said, his tone was flat so as not to attract the attentions of those around him and interest peaked Viktor took the article in hand.

His only response for several minutes was a slight tightening of his fists which rumbled the edges of the paper within his grasp audibly, but he said nothing as he scanned the page, watching the image of Hermione jump forward to wrap Harry in an embrace and then whisper in his ear before it began again.

He had witnessed that hug first hand, and he remembered what he had felt at the time, jealous initially, of course, but she had never given him any reason to suspect there was something more between her and her friend. He might not have qualified their conversations or the time they had spent together, but he was certain had there been anything there between her and Potter she would have mentioned it before now.

His mind drifted to his hand in hers as they sat by the side of the lake and he had read enough, fighting the urge to crush the paper into a small ball before possibly setting it on fire he placed it in front of him.

"Who?" he asked Mikhail who appeared to have not moved while he was locked inside his head, someone had to have passed the paper to him.

"Karkaroff" his friend answered under his breath, and Viktor's head snapped up to the Professor's table to find the Headmaster assessing him as he sat between the Potions Master and the Arithmancy Professor, largely ignoring them both.

He felt his appetite diminish and announced his intention to leave The Great Hall, longing for a few moments where he could react in private. As he made it into the main hall, he heard swift steps behind him but didn't slow, assuming whichever of his friends had left their food in pursuit of him would catch up. That was until a hand landed on his shoulder as he was crossing the green to the ship and he span round.

"Diggory?" he said in query as he came face to face with the smiling Hufflepuff.

"Er hi," Cedric responded brightly before his face took on a more serious expression "listen… this isn't really any of my business, but I saw you reading the Prophet, and I just wanted to let you know that Granger and Potter aren't a couple."

"I…" Viktor made to interrupt, but Cedric put his hands up and carried on.

"You see I travelled to the World Cup with them, no feelings there between them I'm sure of it… well apart from them being good friends but I don't think…"

"I know," Viktor snapped more forcefully than he had intended but he just wanted the boy to stop talking.

"Oh," said Cedric eyes widening "Well… that's splendid then."

Viktor's eyes narrowed at him "Why tell me this?" _how did he know he was interested enough in Hermione to be potentially put out by the article?_

Colour crept into Cedric's face, and he rubbed the back of his neck "I may have seen you together in the Library once and well...I maybe thought I had caught onto something when she was in the tent before the dragons… but if I'm barking up the wrong tree..."

"No" Viktor sighed, not enjoying having to have such a frank conversation with someone he knew so little "instinct is correct."

"Great" replied Cedric looking a lot more assured now though he hopped slightly from foot to foot "if you'll excuse me I've got to go and see a girl about a ball" and with that he bounced off in the direction of the greenhouses.

* * *

After the Headmaster had observed the boys latest track session, Karkaroff had declared they were all _getting soft_ though the words he used were slightly more forceful and not something Viktor was sure of the translation for. As such that Wednesday the Durmstrang contingent found themselves sparring within the large hall of the ship. If the Headmaster had been feeling particularly put out, he would have told them to train outside, regardless of the frigid temperatures. Viktor sensed they had the additional comfort of shelter only because of the attention they would draw rather than a feeling of charity, whatever the prompt he was grateful, snow had started falling the day before, and he had no desire to feel it permeating the thin fabric of his gym kit.

Since the Yule Ball had been announced he found the group of girls that followed him around had doubled up their efforts as well as gaining in members; he rarely got a moment's peace while on the castle grounds and the only difference was now he wasn't the only one. It would appear that the Durmstrang boys were fairly popular choices for dates. Mikhail had been irritable for the past forty-eight hours having never much liked any disturbance to his routine, while Filip had been in seventh heaven.

They had been instructed to work as a three, two fighting while the other refereed and then change up every ten minutes. All three were fairly evenly matched though Mikhail, with whom he was sparring with now, got the better of him more often, not that Filip wasn't a good fighter, he just didn't have the concentration for long bouts.

Mikhail landed a jab as Filip began speaking, "so when are you going to ask Hermione to the ball Viktor?" They all fell back to their native language while within the confines of the boat, though they couldn't deny their use of English was getting better, Viktor was sure he couldn't concentrate on his footwork and speech at the same time.

"Soon" he answered as he landed a blow to Mikhail's shoulder watching the other boy's eyebrows rise.

"Why have you not done it yet, I thought you liked her?" Mikhail asked incredulous expression lighting his face.

Viktor sighed before calling for a time out, stretching for the water that was at the side of their area "I can't get her alone" he began exasperated. "The ball was announced three days ago, and I haven't seen her for more than two minutes at a time before I get surrounded by giggling girls."

"Come now Viktor, faint heart never won fair maiden" Filip grinned at him "and in any case, if you don't get a move on soon someone else will have asked her."

Viktor felt his chest constrict, and he levelled a scowl at his friend, though it wasn't as if he hadn't considered that as a possibility, deflecting from his annoyance he turned back to Filip "you can talk, I don't see you asking anyone" he snapped

Filip's beam was answer enough though he pressed on "I already have a date" he replied smugly.

"Really who?" Mikhail asked, wiping sweat of his brow, clearly as much surprised as Viktor was, it was the first they had heard of it

"Claudia, from Beauxbatons" Filip answered his chest puffed up.

"Claudia?" Mikhail questioned "Claudia the really gorgeous one with the long dark hair?" he qualified.

"Yes," Filip replied drawing out the 's' sound clearly enjoying his friend's reactions.

"Impressive" Viktor laughed punching him on the shoulder.

Mikhail seemed less inclined to let it go "How did you pull that off?"

Filip shrugged, " _she asked me_ , something about how our colouring would work well together in pictures" Mikhail snorted "What? _She's not wrong_ " Filip defended.

Mikhail rolled his eyes in a way that was very dramatic for his usually reserved nature "Viktor, step out for a second I need to hit him."

"Sure" Viktor acquiesced "what about you?" he asked conscious that he might find out he was the only one dragging his feet.

Mikhail shrugged "I'm waiting for you to ask Hermione, then you can ask her to bring one of her friends for me."

"Oh really."

"Yes really, you know I'm not likely to approach one of these girls, and as you have an opening with one you can do it for me. So you better get on with it, or we will both be dateless" Mikhail finished throwing his towel at Viktor before he shunted Filip into the centre.

* * *

By the time Viktor had an opportunity to speak to Hermione it was Friday and his friends continued chides to hurry up had made him even more nervous.

As he approached _their table_ at the back of the library, Viktor was heartened to find her sitting there though a loud giggle he heard as he made his way through the stacks indicated there would likely be no more time to enjoy this spot in private. As he got closer she must have heard his steps as she looked up at him, she smiled, but he noticed bags under her eyes. He dropped into the seat next to her but didn't begin unpacking his stuff; he wanted to be able to make a quick getaway in the event he was rejected.

Hermione had gone back to concentrating on her work when he had sat down, and he whispered to get her attention "can I speak?"

"Yes," she answered a confused expression pulling at her brows "we always speak while we study."

"I know… but I want to ask…. _Something_ " he finished lamely, fighting the urge to shake his head in frustration at himself.

Hermione set her quill down and turned in her chair to face him a little better, clenching his fists he went to speak, but he train of thought was interrupted as a firm shove pushed him forward. He spun around in his seat to find one of the girls that had been behind him a couple of times when he was running smiling at him coquettishly "I am so very sorry" she simpered "I didn't see you there" before she sashayed her way back down the aisle.

Pushing down his irritation he turned back to Hermione only to find her staring off in the direction the girl had gone, if he was guessing correctly she looked a little forlorn.

Taking it as a sign, he decided just to go for it, in case they were interrupted again and he had to wait _another week_ "Hermione will you come to ball with me?" he rushed out while his hand grasped around the top of his bag, _just in case_.

She looked at him blankly for a second until she seemed to recover herself "you can pronounce my name" she whispered softly.

Viktor pushed past the fact she hadn't answered to realise he had; he must have been so focussed on asking her that he had not laboured over it like he normally did. He would celebrate that later, provided that it wasn't some cruel twist of fate that the day he learnt to say it wasn't also the day when she told him she didn't like him, _in that way_.

"I did, you did not answer question" he pushed as his hand gripped tighter.

"You really want to go with me?" she asked in a small voice.

"Yes," he answered immediately "that is why I ask" he finished cheekily, he felt himself gain in confidence after she had, so shyly, sought reassurance.

She smiled at him then, and he finally let himself release his death grip on the satchel by his feet "I would love to" she said brightly.

He mirrored her beam and needing to express how _fucking relieved_ he was he jerked towards her planting a soft kiss on the apple of her cheek. The kiss was swift, but even quick as it was it was long enough for him to feel the heat of her immediate flush warm his lips, he wanted to kiss her again, but he saw her teeth in her bottom lip and downcast eyes and knew not to push her.

Viktor glanced around the library giving her a chance to compose herself and him an opportunity to check on his stalkers before he continued with the second part of his plan. "Next weekend Hogsmeade, yes?" he had heard the students could attend the little village close to the school on set days and as his options to speak to her on the grounds were becoming more and more limited he would just have to invent his own.

She nodded but lifted her eyes to face him, and he was reassured that he hadn't frightened her too much "would you come with me?" the second invite fell out of his mouth much easier than the first. Surely if she would go with him to the ball, this shouldn't be a problem.

"I… I have plans in the morning, but I could go… _would like to go_ in the afternoon… if that works for you of course."

"That would be wonderful" he answered honestly, resolved to move whatever he had to. "I have to leave now," he said reluctantly, he had work to do if he was going to take the following Saturday afternoon off, he didn't want to give Karkaroff an excuse to keep him behind. "I will see you Saturday," he said again as he stood, feeling the need to confirm it again even though she had just said yes.

"Yes," she laughed out, and he made to step away before remembering his promise.

"Hermione, do you have friend who would like to go to the ball, with my friend?" he asked dutifully. Truthfully Mikhail wasn't all that interested in such things, he took his academic career _very seriously_ and while he would no doubt find a wife once he had finished school it simply wasn't in his sphere now. He was sure his friend would have gone alone, but the Headmaster had impressed upon them, several times, that they were all _expected_ to escort someone.

He watched as Hermione deliberated for a moment before her face pulled into a smile "I think I know the perfect person".

* * *

 _A/N big love, as ever, to all of you reading, reviewing and adding to lists. Your feedback on this story makes me so happy, for further stuff and sneak peaks you can find me on Tumblr under the same name._


	6. Part One - Chapter Five

_A/N Hello, thank you for your tremendous patience, I am now back from writing break and should be updating my stories over the next couple of weeks. I hope you enjoy this next instalment._

* * *

Hermione was curled in a chair in front of the fire in the common room though her mind had drifted far from the book in front of her. She had been spacy and lost to her thoughts ever since Viktor had asked her to go to the ball; secret smiles would cross her face at the oddest times, and she would have to avert her face from those around her lest she revealed something by accident.

She had debated going up to bed early and playing with the little Fireball, but when she had gotten back to her dorm he was gone, she shouldn't have been so surprised, Ginny had assured her she would help hide it. She found she missed its little snorts and nuzzling grazes.

Hermione dragged herself from some very uncharacteristic imaginings of boys to focus on the task she had been given. She had promised Viktor that she could secure a date for Mikhail. Viktor's friends had come up often in their conversations; he spoke of them warmly and with a great deal of affection which was another area she felt a sense of kinship with him.

Mikhail, it seemed, was just looking for a date for the evening, nothing romantic. He was vastly intelligent though could seem somewhat cold and aloof at times. She had been considering Ginny, but wasn't sure they would be such a good fit, while Ginny was much younger she already had a very 'formed personality' it was possible her fire would consume him whole.

She had leant her head back to meander further when she heard someone drop into the seat next to her.

Opening one eye she rolled her head to find Neville fidgeting in the chair next to her looking distinctly uncomfortable.

"Are you ok?" she asked concerned, worried that he might be coming to tell her that either Harry or more likely Ron, had done something stupid since she had last seen them.

"Yes,...YES. Er actually I am" he answered falteringly, and wholly unconvincing.

"That's… good" Hermione tried, at a loss to understand what was going on "can I help you with something?" she asked kindly as she sat up properly, turning to face him, which only served to make him more agitated.

"Er, well, I was wondering if you wanted to go to the ball… well, of course, you want to go, who wouldn't... from what McGonagall said it sounds amazing, but er… would you want to go with me?" he asked finally his hands resting on his knees that were bouncing slightly in front of him.

Hermione felt the heat rise up on her neck. She almost wished Viktor hadn't asked her, just for a moment, she wanted to be able to say yes so badly; Hermione didn't like Neville, not like that, but she wanted to be able to make what was obviously a challenging endeavour worth it.

But she couldn't do that, when Viktor had asked her she had felt truly happy, as much as Hermione wanted to alleviate Neville's nerves she couldn't do it at Viktor's expense, or her own.

"I'm sorry Neville, I've already been asked" she explained compassionately.

His face fell a little, and she sat forward "but I have an idea of someone who would love to go."

"Oh?" he said not looking up, his cheeks slightly pink "who?"

"Have you thought about asking Ginny?" she ventured quietly.

"Ginny? Really?"

"She would _love_ to go, and I'm sure she would be very flattered to be asked, just like I am."

He snorted slightly, and the sound hurt her.

"Truly" she replied quietly, honestly, she sincerely couldn't believe someone else had asked her, let alone been visibly upset that she had said no.

He smiled, a kind of almost there smile, and Hermione felt herself sag slightly in relief.

"I think I will ask her," he said and nodded as if he had resolved himself.

He got up from the chair and walked as if to go up the stairs to the dorms before pausing for a second, turning to look back over his shoulder at her "I'm not surprised someone asked you by the way" she looked up at him. "I hope you have a great time Hermione."

"Me too Neville, me too."

* * *

The next day, after a restful night dreaming of ice sculptures, punch bowls, twirling skirts and furs Hermione went out into the grounds after breakfast. It was freezing, and she was never one to be outside unless it was strictly required but she was pretty sure she had seen who she was looking for disappearing this way out of the Great Hall.

It didn't take long of stomping through the frosted grass before she found her, sitting by the side of the lake. Luna was perched on the very edge of a stone bench charming the light snowfall to dance around her in swirling patterns that caught up in her hair and eyelashes.

Hermione had thought hard about her decision; she had promised Viktor, a date for his friend and she felt sure Luna was the best choice. She was unlikely to form a romantic attachment without provocation which she was certain Mikhail wouldn't give, quiet though he may have been, he would certainly find her interesting, Luna was one of a kind.

Their potential suitability as companions for the evening aside rather selfishly she wanted her friend to come, and it looked as if by the end of the week they would all be going.

When Hermione had first heard about the ball she had hurried off to owl her Mother immediately, she wanted to go to get a new dress but wasn't confident doing so without her Mother's approval. Jean Granger had almost fallen over herself to agree; Hermione had not been surprised at her rapid response, given that she had afforded her virtually no outlet for such activities up to now.

As such approached Luna, she dropped onto the cold bench next to her, drawing her wand to cast warming charms over both of them.

"Hi Hermione" Luna greeted brightly, not taking her eyes off the snow clusters "How are you?"

"I'm good thank you, I have a favour to ask you" Hermione began, eager to get out of the cold as quickly as possible.

"Another one?" Luna asked, dropping her wand back inside her jacket and letting the previously animated flecks fall to the ground.

"I'm sorry" Hermione responded, having no idea what Luna was referring to.

"The dragon" Luna replied simply "Ginny passed him to me."

Hermione's eyes were filled with understanding; _that had been a very wise plan._

"Thank you for doing that, I haven't seen her yet today I didn't know where she had taken it" Hermione explained "How is it? I know it was slowing down…. Would you think I'm strange if I wanted to see it before it loses its animation?" She asked softly; she felt a little silly, but she had been so blown away by Viktor's gift, and she would be kind of sad when the tiny dragon lost its life, artificial as it may have been.

"Of course not" Luna replied "but you shouldn't worry about that I fixed it," she said matter-of-factly.

"What do you mean you fixed it?" Hermione asked wide-eyed.

Luna shrugged "It didn't take much few charms and such… It doesn't quite have the fiery personality it once had, and I had to charm its wings so it couldn't completely fly away but it's still very animated, I think he misses you."

Hermione smiled and pulled Luna into a big hug "thank you" she said, she couldn't wait to tell Viktor that the Fireball would remain, though despite him gifting it to her he seemed slightly less taken with it than she was.

"So… What did you want to ask me?" Luna said as Hermione finally released her.

"Well, Viktor has asked me to the ball."

It felt strange saying it out loud, and her face immediately snapped to Luna's waiting to see incredulity there, but she simply saw Luna's typically impassive features

Before Luna smiled at her "Well that's not exactly a surprise, as a Seeker I suppose he is used to spotting things of value that other people miss."

It took Hermione a moment to overcome the tight feeling in her throat at Luna's words. It hadn't been until she had told her friend that she realised she expected people not to believe her, to think she was lying or worse that he had asked her out of some pity, Hermione pushed the thoughts to the back of her mind to raise with her Mum when she saw her.

"Thank you," she said finally "what I was going to ask is Mikhail, Viktor's friend…"

"The serious one?" Luna interjected.

"Yes, that one… he would like a companion for the ball too, and for reasons that remain slightly unclear to me Viktor asked if I could ask someone." At Luna's thoughtful expression she rushed out her explanation of it being unromantic in intention "I just thought it might be fun, I think Neville is asking Ginny, and we could go and get dresses together, get ready together… and" Hermione sagged "I could so with some support in this… I don't know what I'm doing."

"You must be doing something right Hermione, he asked."

 _Well, that was an interesting thought._

"I would love to come, more for the bits with you and Ginny, not sure I've ever got dressed up before… But I'm a third year."

"It's perfectly within the rules, I checked," Hermione said waving a hand dismissively.

Luna smiled then, really smiled "Of course you did.. Ok let's do it."

* * *

A week later Professor McGonagall made good on her threat and held dance lessons. The boys made their protest known by literally dragging their feet on the way, and as irritated as Hermione was with Ron's reluctance she empathised slightly, this was likely to be a somewhat humiliating experience for everyone, though she didn't tell them that. She hadn't been late to a lesson held by her Head of House for four years she wasn't about to start now.

Thankfully their Professor, in an uncharacteristic display of mercy, had at least decided only to torment them in front of their house. The idea of this lesson happening in tandem with the Slytherin's was almost unthinkable, as was the thought of Professor Snape somehow having the same experience in the dungeons of the castle, Hermione did her best to banish that image as soon as it appeared.

Hermione lined up with the other fourth year girls feeling decidedly twitchy; this was not something she felt comfortable with at all. She tried to follow the beats that Professor McGonagall was outlining from the music, but it may as well have all been Ancient Greek to her. In fact, Ancient Greek would probably have been more discernible.

When the Professor asked for volunteers she was surprised to see Neville walk out first, he looked a little pale but perked up a little when Professor McGonagall warmly praised him. Parvati was selected from the girls, and the two moved together, it was a little stiff at first, especially the bowing and the rigmarole that seemed to be required before the dancing had even begun. Hermione considered that it may have been worth being called Mudblood all this time if it also meant she grew up watching Saturday Morning Kitchen with her Mum instead of in dance lessons but as the flow of the music swelled around the room her opinion changed slightly.

Neville was brilliant. _Utterly brilliant_. The longer he moved, the more he seemed to shake off his nerves, his dancing had rhythm and his body arched and fell completely in time with the music being played, through his sure movements Hermione could finally pick up the melody she should have been following and some of her anxiety washed away.

It wasn't just her; she saw the subtle smiles of the girls along the line and the quirking of Parvati's lips who now seemed _very pleased_ to find she had underestimated her partner. Hermione couldn't help beaming. How her naturally clumsy friend could be so distinctly graceful executing the complicated steps she had no idea. Hermione couldn't wait to tell Ginny. The redhead had tackled her in the corridor the evening before, almost incoherent with joy, Neville had asked her just before dinner, and she was thrilled, thrilled to be going at all as a third year, but also pleased to be going with a friend.

" _If I can't go with someone I like_ _**like**_ _it's lovely to be able to go with someone I feel comfortable with" Ginny had confided. The young witch's feeling for Harry drifted in the air between them but neither said anything._

Hermione suspected it would be a few years before her friend would see the value in having Ginny's affections directed at him, and she secretly hoped then when he _finally_ did cotton on she would make him work for it.

When Neville bowed to Parvati to signal the end of the dance the room broke into applause and Professor McGonagall commanded that they all partner up and start to learn the steps. Hermione instinctively shrank back against the wall, memories of junior school PE flooding her senses, not wanting to face the humiliation of being picked last, coupled with the dread of actually being picked at all meaning she would have to take part. She didn't have time to panic too much time before Dean Thomas was stood in front of her. He didn't say anything before he dropped into an elegant bow more suited to a European Prince than a school boy. At his mumbled 'm'lady' she burst into giggles that chased away all of her residual nerves. As subtly as she could, she wiped her warm palms against the sides of her skirt and took his hand.

Considering she was a muggleborn and Dean might as well have been they fumbled through the steps well enough, Dean distracted her by goofing around a little and even Professor McGonagall seemed to be fighting back a smile as the staid waltz they were practising morphed into a sort of clumsy tango.

Hermione mentally added to her to-do list to ask Ginny to take her through some of the steps; she didn't want to show herself up. As Dean twirled her around the floor, she could help wonder what it would feel like to be held within Viktor's embrace. She imagined he would be a good dancer, he seemed good at most physical activities, as the thought popped into her head she felt her cheeks flush and prayed she could believably pass it off as being down to the exertion.

* * *

That Saturday morning Hermione woke up when something landed directly on her stomach, something that was decidedly larger than Crookshanks.

"What the hell?!" she moaned out when she had got her breath back.

Blinking to clear away the residual sleep she found Ginny on top of her, already dressed and grinning at her like a lunatic.

"What time is it?" she mumbled sleepily.

"Time to get up and get breakfast" Ginny replied jumping up and pulling Hermione's cover away.

Hermione glared at her "You're up early" she accused.

"I know" Ginny replied almost bouncing on the spot.

" _Too early_ " Hermione bit out, not pleased that her mood had not yet been picked up on.

"Couldn't sleep."

"Why?

"Why?" Ginny responded incredulously "Why do you think? My friend tells me we are going not just to London, but muggle London and we are getting dresses, dresses for a ball, for a ball I didn't think I would be going to… I. AM. SO. EXCITED"

I couldn't tell" Hermione responded dryly dragging herself unwillingly from her soft mattress. She had just planted her feet on the floor when the door opened again, and Luna walked in decidedly calmer than Ginny but dressed and ready to go all the same.

"How did you get up here?" she asked baffled.

Luna looked past her shoulders and shrugged "the stairs."

"I'm not even going to ask" Hermione muttered.

"Come on Hermione, we have to go, now, now, now" Ginny chastised throwing random clothes at her till Hermione sprang, slowly into action.

Dragging herself around the dorm room she got herself ready quickly to avoid Ginny's ire and was soon following the girls down to breakfast; they would be floo'ing from Professor McGonagall's office and meeting her Mother at Bond Street tube station. Hermione felt pretty confident about their trip but was concerned about the girls so spent most of the breakfast randomly warning them about things and repeatedly telling them to keep together it was a testament to how delighted they both were that they let her carry on like that without interruption.

* * *

Hermione's Mother was clearly overjoyed when she saw them appear at the tube exit, the girls were chatting enthusiastically, and while they had simply marvelled at the tube, it looked like there had been no need to warn them about staying close, both girls had looped an arm under hers to avoid the crush.

Her Mum steered them into one of the bigger department stores and immediately headed to the cafe so she could get a chance to catch up, and talk about what they wanted to find. As soon as the tea tray been settled on the wobbly table her Mum pounced;

"So who is the boy?" she asked leaning forward across the table.

"Boy?" Hermione answered innocently and completely unbelievably.

"He's from Durmstrang" Ginny supplied animatedly, pouring tea, still not having lost the bounce she had woken up with.

"One of the visiting schools?" her Mum asked, Hermione smiled at her, as much as a lot of what she told her parents must have seemed like gobbledygook they tried to keep up with the going- on, even if they didn't fully understand them.

"Yes!" Luna chimed in "and he's a professional Quidditch player, supposedly the best Seeker in the world."

"That's the sport right?" her Mum questioned, the apple really hadn't fallen far from the tree in that respect, at Hermione's nod she continued "how old is he?"

"Seventeen" Hermione answered joining the conversation properly for the first time, usually she would have been irritated by the talk happening around her but it felt nice that her friends were thrilled for her, it felt nice to be excited herself for once.

Her Mother looked like she was processing that information, she was unlikely to have a problem, Hermione's Dad was ten years older than her Mother, and they had met when they were quite young though she suspected David Granger might conveniently find a reason to discount that information if he found out.

"She has a date with him this afternoon" Ginny burst out, _seriously what was wrong with that girl today?_

"We should get you something else to wear" her Mum resolved.

Eager to move the conversation along, Hermione brought up the ball dresses they wanted which had them all talking animatedly. Herself and Luna both wanted to wear blue, it was in keeping with the winter feel, and they both liked the colour, Ginny mentioned that it would like nice with their uniforms and Hermione blushed making her Mum make an uncharacteristic squealing sound. She was enjoying this far too much already.

Hermione had run into Viktor just once since he had asked her to the ball; he had wanted to confirm their date for this afternoon, and she had taken the opportunity to tell him Luna had accepted.

When he had asked about her weekend, Hermione had said she was getting her dress, and he had asked what sort of thing she planned on, with a coyness she wasn't aware she possessed Hermione told him he would have to wait and see. He had smiled at her response before tilting his head to the side;

" _Well_ _ **I**_ _will be_ _ **nice**_ _and tell," he said in a decidedly cheeky tone of voice that Hermione found she liked, a lot "I will be wearing formal uniform robes."_

" _Is that the red tunic?" She asked as lightly as she could while she bit firmly into her lip to prevent herself from saying any more about it._

 _Viktor looked slightly smug as he crossed his arms over his chest "da" he confirmed, and he went on to explain in broken English about the fur lined cape he would also have._

 _She nodded to show her understanding. Somehow since Viktor had asked her things were a little easier, not that they had ever been difficult, far from it, but she always felt like she was tying herself in knots around him, too scared to say too much in case she betrayed herself. Now that she knew he reciprocated her crush, at least a little, while she still felt incredibly awkward and out of her depth, she didn't feel so much like an inexperienced child pining after the unattainable._

It wasn't long before they were in the changing rooms with their first round of clothes, Ginny had a broad spectrum of things to choose from, but Hermione and Luna had stuck to their desire for blue gowns.

It was Luna who found hers first; the ice blue dress fell to her dainty feet, was full sleeved, rising high on her neck and completely covered in beautifully embroidered flowers, the sleeves billowed around her pale skin and Luna rejoiced in finding pockets contained inside the voluminous skirts.

It was stunning, entirely fitting for the occasion and slightly eccentric, all in all, perfect for her friend.

"Oh I know exactly what to do for you hair" Ginny called out as Luna marched back and forth repeatedly twirling her skirts about her like a miniature ballerina.

"You're just like my Hermione Luna; we will have to get it taken up so you don't trip over the hem. Is that something you can do with your magic love?"

"Yes we can, if we cannot find a spell I'm sure Mrs Weasley will be able to send us the appropriate books" Hermione turned to her friend "It's so, so lovely Luna."

Hermione admired the shape very much; it was modest while still being gorgeous, the sales girl watched Hermione's expression and stepped forward "Would you like me to pull similar things?" she asked eager to help.

Hermione's eyes fell to Luna "Would you mind?"

"Would I mind someone wanting to dress like me?" Luna said eyebrows rising "No, not at all… I think that would be rather wonderful actually."

Hermione sat down next to her Mum while Ginny went back in to carry on working through her enormous pile.

"Try the red ones next Ginny" her Mum called

Hermione looked up into her face; her Mother was clearly having a lovely time, and she felt a small pang of guilt that she hadn't had an experience like this before.

"Would you like to go for Lunch afterwards?" she asked instinctively.

"Well of course sweetheart, I would love too. But don't you need to be heading back to school for your date?"

"Yes but not immediately" Hermione replied, settling her head on her Mum's shoulder.

"Well then, let's get your dresses and then I'll feed you all," she said dropping a kiss amid Hermione's curls. "I like your friends" she whispered almost conspiratorially, and Hermione smiled.

"And I can't wait to hear more about this boy that has finally got my girl blushing" she continued in a teasing tone.

"We will tell you Mrs Granger" Ginny called, her voice muffled behind the heavy curtain.

Hermione fought back her need to shout at everyone again; she needed the help, any pointers she could get would be gratefully received, while the dress shopping was a pleasant distraction the butterflies that had been present in her stomach this morning seemed to be multiplying at an alarming rate.

A moment or two later the curtain was ripped open dramatically, and Ginny sauntered out in a bright red form fitting dress, the neckline asymmetrically leading up to one shoulder. It wasn't a traditional ball gown. Instead, it ended at the ankle, with a relatively sizable split in the front but then Ginny had never really been an ordinary girl.

"What do you think?" she said holding her arms out dramatically and placing them on her hips.

"I think you'll stun Neville" Luna called breezily.

"Like, literally stun him" Hermione added, "And I believe we might have to put a cloak over you to get you out of the common room before Ron notices but, you look so beautiful."

"Not too much?" she asked lightly, spinning in the mirror so she could see the back of it for herself.

Hermione's Mother jumped up "No I don't think so, it's a pretty bold cut, but you're still covered up, and there aren't any adornments or anything, stick it simple makeup and hair, and you will be fine."

Hermione's eyes must have widened at the talk of makeup because Ginny looked back at her amused "Not to worry Hermione, all in hand, you just find a dress and let me worry about the everything else."

Just then the sales girl reappeared holding the next round of dresses and Hermione entered back into the changing room to start trying on.

The first one on the pile looked a little gaudy for her tastes but knowing her Mum would protest if she went for something to overly simple Hermione slipped it on. Moving her ridiculous hair out of the way of the fastening at the back of her neck Hermione finally looked at herself in the mirror and couldn't hold back a tiny gasp.

What had looked so glittery and overdone on the hanger looked like chiselled ice on the gown, it was a soft blue, the shape was incredibly similar to Luna's, falling to the floor with an a line skirt but the sleeves sat firmly against her skin ending just before her wrists.

The bright jewels that lined the entire gown were arranged in artful patterns that reminded her of mosaic tiles she had seen on holidays in Northern Africa.

It was the single best thing Hermione had ever put on, and she was instantly sure that she looked utterly silly in something so beautiful, something so grown up.

Sucking in a breath, she pulled back the curtain to find her friends, now back in their regular clothes, sitting on either side of her Mother. They went silent, and Hermione twitched a little uncomfortable with their sweeping glances.

"I know," she said, breaking the hush and dropping her head " it's a little ott, isn't it… maybe I should look for something a bit plainer?"

When she looked back up her Mum pinned her right in the eyes with her gaze "Oh Hermione, it's so beautiful… You look _so pretty._ "

"Really?" she asked in a small voice.

"Yes really" Ginny said standing to sweep around the dress "This is _perfect_ … Plus you and Luna have coordinated, and that works seeing as you're both going with boys from the same school."

"This one then?" she asked looking back at her Mum for her approval.

"Oh, I should say so."

"Great, I'll take it off then and then we can go for lunch."

"Hermione you're forgetting your outfit for later."

"How could I have forgotten?" she replied with a roll of her eyes.

"Come on, it won't be that bad, just a nice new coat and boots" her Mum chided.

"Just a nice new coat and boots?" she asked sceptically but with amusement, she knew this game her Mother played of old.

"Well maybe a cute top" her mother shrugged.

* * *

A quick trip to get a new outfit had taken over an hour, by the time Hermione had got back from lunch she only just had enough time to change before she was due to meet Viktor. Something she was sure was planned on her Mother's part, she wasn't sure if she had acted to try and alleviate her nerves or not to give her time to second guess her outfit, maybe it was a combination of the two.

Not that Hermione was dissatisfied with the results. Her Mother had shown a restraint she wasn't well known for and allowed her to pick simple items. It was after all winter in Scotland; there were limited options.

She had on a pair of jeans that Ginny had insisted she get, slim fit 'so they fit inside boots', a line she was sure she had been fed, _what would Ginny have known about jeans?_ Paired with the softest cable knit jumper in a warm cream that she had loved immediately, and a darker cream woolly looking winter coat to pull over the top.

All of that she was fine with, it was the tan knee high boots she was eyeing a little sceptically. Thankfully her Mother had pulled out flats, but they still felt a little unlike her, it wasn't that she disliked them, not like them as such, they just seemed a little bit more attention grabbing than she would normally wear.

Which she reluctantly conceded was the point if she was going on a date.

Hermione pulled the boots on and took a quick glance in the mirror; she didn't have time to do much with her hair, but she tended to leave it down in the winter as the bulk kept her ears warm.

Out of time she grabbed her coat and made her way down to the to the common room drawing a half raised eyebrow from Neville which made her feel even more exposed in her outfit, _should have just worn trainers_.

She managed to make it on time finding Viktor standing outside waiting for her, completely unaffected by the cold in his fur-lined jacket. The grounds were quiet now as most students would either be in Hogsmeade already or deciding against the excursion because of the weather.

He reached his arm out towards her, and she took it as gracefully as she could manage, given the plethora of butterflies that had just awoken in her stomach.

* * *

 _A/N I am_ truly _sorry to end it there but the chapter was getting so long and I wanted to give proper space for their first real date so it will be in the next chapter._

 _Follow me on Tumblr for sneak peaks etc (Calebski)_


	7. Part One - Chapter Six

_A/N thank you for all of your wonderful reviews to the last chapter, I wasn't going to update so soon but I was motivated to finish working on their first date so here it is._

 _For all of you enjoying some Krumione I discovered writer TinySlippers this week who has posted some lovely Hermione x Viktor fics this week go check them out!_

* * *

The walk into Hogsmeade took less time than Hermione could have imagined, she had been worried about how the conversation would flow between them, but as they hadn't had a longish talk for some time they had a lot to catch up on, Viktor certainly seemed chatty. Hermione wasn't sure where his reputation for being sullen came from; he was always happy enough when she spoke to him.

They made it into the bustling village, and she followed Viktor's lead until he walked to stand in front of Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop, as Hermione took in the thick net curtains and little tables through the snow-dusted window she felt her heart drop a little. She knew it was where _everyone_ went for dates, admittedly the choices for students were pretty limited, and they would have attracted too much attention from the ample afternoon crowd in the Three Broomsticks, but she felt a little... limp.

Hermione idly considered what Viktor's reaction would be to date activity options in the muggle world; she had a suspicion he would _love_ bowling and arcade games.

"Told this was where to go," he said falteringly, some of his ease from the last half an hour beginning to dissipate in the face of her lack of reaction.

Hermione forced a smile on her face, determined to be polite, _even if it killed her_ , "this looks great" she said with what she hoped wasn't obviously false cheer.

Hermione had never been on a date before, had never had anyone, besides her parents, even plan a meal for her, it wasn't Viktor's fault that the embroidered prison was her idea of hell on earth.

At Viktor's relieved look Hermione resolved that she would get through this _experience_ with good graces, even if suffering in silence wasn't exactly something she was known for.

As Viktor stepped in front of her and pushed open the door, a tinkling bell signalled their arrival. He stepped back against the inward opening so she could walk through and with the limited space her back grazed against his front, and she sucked in a breath.

A moment later a distraction arrived in the form of a matronly witch who appeared in front of them, clad in an unflattering floral tabard and bustled them to a table in the far corner.

Hermione reached to pull off her warm jacket in reaction to the almost stifling heat of the room; she found that now she was inside the pink dollied paradise her nerves were beginning to ratchet again. As she folded herself into the small chair she felt her planned words die in her throat; the environment was so artificial she didn't know what to say. She threaded her fingers together in front of her to stop herself from fidgeting, and observed Viktor's eyes sweep over the place with mildly concerned expression. Hermione saw his mouth twitch several times, but no words were forthcoming, they both seemed to be searching for something, anything, to say but Hermione was at a complete loss. Should she draw attention to the chintzy curtains? The old floral carpet or the ornately patterned plates?

Adding to her discomfort Hermione was scared to move lest she dislodged some ornament or other, every surface practically groaned under the weight of useless knick knacks that she was sure _all had a place_.

As the silence became a little oppressive, the witch who had greeted them appeared again, carrying a loaded tray, offering tea and a selection of cakes and pastries. Hermione wondered whether her timing was just luck or could it likely stem from having overseen decades of adolescent awkwardness?

Hermione instantly reached for the teapot as Viktor held the tray up for her to make the first selection, almost too quickly, apparently as pleased to have something to do as she was. As Hermione sat up a little to peer across the tray, she sneezed as the _very_ liberally applied powdered sugar had formed a cloud from Viktor's rapid movement.

She hurriedly made her choice, averting her face to prevent further sneezing and offered Viktor a shy smile.

"Shall I pour?" she asked hesitantly, and Viktor nodded.

All she had to do now was lift the teapot again and pour the liquid without shaking, c _ome on Hermione you can imobolize forty-five rioting Cornish Pixies, you can pour a bloody cup of tea._

"How was morning?" Viktor asked as he selected his cake, eyeing the delicately iced confection wearily before putting it on one of the ridiculous side plates.

Hermione let out a quiet sigh of pure relief as she placed the teapot back on the table "it was fun" she answered enthusiastically, possibly letting some of her disbelief slide into her tone, she had expected to loathe every minute of it "Ginny and Luna came, we met my Mum there."

Seeing her Mother this morning had been a refresher on her parent's ideals when it came to sweet things, Hermione couldn't fight back her slight wince at the sight of sprinkles within the cake she had just bitten into, _it had looked relatively innocuous from the outside_.

"Did you get dress?" Viktor asked, smiling out of one side of his mouth.

"Yes… I'm still not telling you though" she countered and Viktor laughed, as the noise rang out in the almost empty room she felt some of her anxiety slip away, the butterflies resident in her stomach quelled their flapping long enough for her to make another attempt at the secret glitter cake.

She was going to try, that's what she had said over lunch, try to push past her artless blundering. Luna had suggested that if Hermione _loosened up_ and didn't _over think_ she would be all right, Hermione wasn't sure how quickly her friend anticipated she could achieve the total personality transplant she had recommended, maybe it was advice to put into practice for another day.

The idle conversation continued, but Hermione couldn't get settled in the strange surroundings, it was throwing her; she thought maybe Viktor was pleased with his choice till she looked up to find him very subtly frowning at this hands. She lifted herself out of her seat, very slightly, to see over the various pots on the table and noticed his large hands struggling to move the little cutlery. It was the strangest thing she had ever seen.

She couldn't blame him for his confusion, what boy of seventeen had ever had to manipulate what looked like a child's fork covered in pink glitter hearts?

As he dropped his knife, again, Hermione bit down on the inside of her cheek to stop herself from laughing, and Viktor, apparently aware he was now observed looked up to find her leaning over and his face became serious. Hermione might have been concerned that she had offended him, had she not known him so well, all that shared time in the library had taught her to look for the playful gleam in his eyes.

"Something is funny Hermione?" he asked lifting an eyebrow.

Hermione shook her head, not trusting herself to speak as a bubble of mirth rose in her throat. Apparently taking her expression as a challenge, he moved the knife away decidedly and instead picked up the ridiculously small teaspoon, with mouse and cheese motif handle, holding it in a parody of delicacy as he twirled it in his tea.

She made a strangled sound before giving into giggles.

"We never come here again," he said finally, in a dramatic whisper, winking at her conspiratorially.

"That I can manage" she smiled happily, before reaching towards the tray again "cakes are good though" she conceded.

He grinned at her and leant back in his chair "sorry, thought this would be good place" he said apologetically.

"It's ok, I've never actually been in here before, I didn't think I would like it, it's a bit well… you know" she said waving her hand to gesture at the room large "but it was nice to try it."

"Never?… would have" he shook his head "nevermind."

"Let's just finish our tea and leave?" Hermione suggested, more hint of a question in her tone that she would have liked. She didn't want to go back to the castle, not yet.

"I take you somewhere else?" he replied in a tone that was somehow half question, half assertion, but she nodded anyway to make her feelings clear.

"You were going to tell me about the competition you had at school to get into the TriWizard," she said, he had brought it up before in passing, and she had found herself curious about it.

Viktor nodded "many seventh years wanted to take part, Karkaroff would only take twenty, we had to challenge for space. Five tasks altogether, some thinking, some physical."

He seemed rather reticent to talk about it in detail and so Hermione changed tack "wasn't that a massive undertaking for you, what with school and Quidditch and everything else?"

"Da… But, I wanted to come" he confirmed.

"Why?" she asked interestedly.

He smiled softly at her, and Hermione felt some of the slumbering butterflies reawakening, Viktor never got irritated by her endless questions the way everyone else did; he indulged her.

"Wanted to come to England, wanted to travel, have new experience" he explained.

"Did you know you were coming?... When I saw you over the summer I mean?" she hadn't intended to blurt the question, _damn his disarming smile_ , Hermione had hinted at it before but never come right out and asked him plainly.

"No" he affirmed thoughtfully, leaning forward to reach a napkin, "competition had not started then, but _knew_ after meeting you I would get place" he replied looking at her intently. There was a challenge in his gaze that she wasn't quite ready to push against yet, though, for the first time, she thought she might be, soon.

Her skin flushed, and she averted her eyes slightly, Viktor was _so_ transparent about everything, all her questions got straight answers, and even if he was a little cheeky at times she found she liked it more often than not.

When Hermione risked glancing back up, she discovered that Viktor had made quick work of a doughnut as he finished speaking and it had left a line of powered sugar in its wake.

 _Over the top of his lip._

Hermione asked herself _what would Ginny have done?_ Heart pounding she balled up all of her courage and stretched over the overburdened table while he began speaking about the library he had at home. As her small hand connected with his, surprisingly soft, skin Viktor's voice immediately quieted and she gently brushed the pad of her thumb across the sugar trace, sweeping half over the smooth flesh of his lip before she could lose her bravado.

"Er... sugar," she said, clumsily holding up her thumb as if to give contributory evidence to a shaky story.

"Thank you," he mummered quietly reaching up to touch his lip himself.

* * *

Viktor watched the pink that bloomed across Hermione's cheeks with a lot more joy than any of the pink in this room had caused, he would never have expected her to be as bold as to reach across like that. Secretly he would love her to be _even bolder_ but he didn't want to rush her, she had given enough away for him to be sure she hadn't had much male attention yet, if any, _there was no accounting for the taste of British men it seemed._

He was happy for this, whatever their relationship now was, to move at any pace Hermione was comfortable with, as long as it was still moving, as long as he still got to spend time with her.

When she put her cup down, he saw an opening to get them out of there and stood from the uncomfortable seat quickly moving to hold out her coat behind her while she got up.

Viktor _thoroughly_ approved of her outfit, in her jumper and coat she looked so soft, and he had to concentrate extremely hard to ensure he let the coat go once she was back in it. Though best intentions aside, he couldn't resist gently sliding his hand under her bouncy curls, his thumb _just_ grazing the nape of her neck as he untucked her hair from inside her jacket. He stepped away as he felt her still under his fingers and he sped to the door in need of some cooler air.

Once they were back outside, she directed him to Tomes and Scrolls with a slightly apologetic expression that he ignored and followed her into the murky store. No proprietor appeared to shepherd them, not that it seemed to matter, Hermione evidently knew her way around the bookshop, and he trailed as she led them to the store's transfiguration isle before she began searching the section, running her fingers along the spines, pulling out a red-clad book he recognised.

"You don't want that one," he said decisively.

He scanned the shelves quickly, the ones she couldn't reach, so must not have seen, picked up the alternative he was looking for and held it out to her.

"This one much better," he said, happy to be able to help.

He watched confused as her face pull into a frown "I don't think so, Professor McGonagall said that _this_ was the book I needed to look at for an advanced project I'm working on" she said a little sharply, not taking the book he was proffering.

He dropped his hand back down to his side "that book is outdated, theories in this one superior."

She crossed her arms as her eyes flashed at him in warning "I _severely_ doubt it, and irregardless I've read that one" she nodded her head in the direction of the book he was still clutching "the theories are _convoluted_ and half-baked" she said dismissively.

"You mean _you_ couldn't follow them?" he pushed, mirroring her folded arms.

He bit back a smile as she, no doubt unconsciously, attempt to stand taller, squaring her shoulders and lifting up her chin; _where had his shy girl gone?_ Viktor leant against the shelf to his side and tried to keep his face impassive as Hermione raged at him, seemingly forgetting about all of her nerves. It took a long time before she noticed his smiling eyes and she deflated immediately.

"You're laughing at me," she said in a small voice, and he pulled himself away from the shelves to lean down to meet her eyes.

"No, _debating_ with you… enjoy as much as _agreeing_ with you."

Hermione muttered something under her breath as she walked past him, waving her preferred book challengingly as she headed to the counter, he liked that he could fluster her.

When they got back outside the night was beginning to draw in and reluctantly Viktor realised he was going to have to walk Hermione back to the castle. One thing was for certain he would _have_ to find time to get to the library this week, their outing hadn't been long enough, though he supposed she had needed to get her dress, that couldn't have been helped. He was secretly a little pleased she was keeping it a surprise, though his imagination had attempted a few options over the last couple of days.

When he suggested taking the path home, Hermione agreed, and he swiftly grabbed the book bag out of her hand rather than offering first, anticipating her refusal. She huffed at his presumption but gave up when he ignored her protests.

They walked closer together than on the way out, and the backs of their hands brushed together once, twice before Viktor slyly moved the bag he was holding to his other side, freeing the hand closest to Hermione which he immediately used to wrap around hers.

Her hand was small, just like her, standing so close she only came up to his shoulder, and even then that was mainly because of her hair. Hermione didn't say anything when he enveloped her hand, but a couple of moments later she intertwined her cold fingers through his larger ones.

It had been far too long since he had held her hand.

As their hands meshed Viktor subtly slowed their pace, not enough, he hoped, to be noticeable, but sufficient to prolong their date a little longer.

"What are your plans after school finishes?" her soft voice asked at the side of him shaking him from his thoughts.

"Quidditch, full time" he answered immediately, his plans had been fixed for some years.

"Where?" she asked, and he almost got lost again in thought, _how strange was it to get lost thinking about someone when you were with them?_

Typically excessive questions about himself made Viktor uncomfortable, but never with her, Hermione's intent was always so earnest. When girls had asked him about his job before they were really asking about his prospects, if they asked about his home they were accessing his wealth. Hermione wanted to know his stories, all of the little inconsequential threads that made up his life; _do you have a pet? What's your favourite season? Where was the most interesting place you have travelled to?_ She wanted to know more about him; Hermione made him feel like he was more than the sum of a few desirable traits, like a whole person, _like a man_.

"Have offers but my Mother wants me to stay in central Europe" that was an understatement when a letter had arrived from the American Quidditch Association, and his Mother had found it on his desk, she nearly had a fit at even the suggestion that he would move that far away. That was one of the difficulties of being an only child, another pressure that Hermione understood.

"What about you?" he asked interested, she hadn't mentioned her career aspirations before.

She bit her lip "The Ministry."

"Really? You too nice for politics" he teased.

"You don't know me well enough to know that" she asserted primly.

"Might be coming to" he replied grinning at her brashly.

She glared at him before she seemed to falter and her face moved back to a blank countenance, how long would it be before she felt truly comfortable with him? He enjoyed the flash of defiance she let break through every now and again; this witch was no pushover.

"Also completing Transfiguration Mastery… My father wants further education, can't be professional Quidditch player forever" he said with a roll of his eyes, paraphrasing from a very long, very often delivered speech.

Hermione nodded absently while looking up at the darkening sky "you'll be good at that" he raised his eyebrows, and she paled almost as if she had just realised what she said. "Oh, I may have read over some of your notes while we were studying, your papers on the subject were... er… very insightful."

He beamed at her that _she_ found him intelligent felt like the biggest compliment he had received for a long time.

"So you'll be travelling all over Europe next year?" she asked, her tone was hard to read, her voice muffled under the collar of her thick jumper, but he thought she sounded a little resigned. He was planning on waiting until later to talk about intentions he had, intentions that had already been listed and sent home for his Mother's approval, at least the ones appropriate at this stage. _But he could suggest things, couldn't he?_

"Yes, will be travelling _all_ over Europe" he confirmed

"Oh," she said so quietly he almost didn't hear her.

"When we meet in library this week should we move to section near maps?"

Hermione looked up at him; her eyebrows pulled together in a bewildered frown that made her look adorable, and Viktor had the sudden desire to run his hand across her brow, smoothing the line that had appeared.

"Why would we need the Geography section?" she asked perplexed.

"Oh, you don't need?" he taunted lightly.

"Viktor, I, what?"

He decided to stop ribbing her "you seem to have forgotten Scotland is in Europe."

"There aren't any Quidditch teams in Scotland," she said in a small voice.

"Oh?" He questioned lightly, knowing her enough by now to fully appreciate just _how little_ she knew about the sport.

"I may have…. I may have checked," Hermione said, obviously flustered and embarrassed, heat rising up her neck as she bit down on her lip.

Viktor stopped her by pulling on her hand, hating to see her she was discomforted but delighting in the realisation that she was already thinking so far ahead. They were stood just before the Hogwarts gates, and he shot a quick surreptitious glance around them to check they weren't overlooked before he pulled her against him, folding his arms around her shoulders. He heard her squeak slightly before, after a couple of moments pause, she hesitantly moved her arms from down by her sides to coil around his waist inside his coat, her hands fisting into the back of his thick knit jumper. Viktor couldn't recall a time he had ever felt such warmth before. Such a sense of belonging as he did then, standing as he was, in the middle of a freezing path, in early December, with a girl that probably weighed about the same as the coat he was wearing.

"No, no Quidditch teams here Hermione… But other things, _important_ things."

* * *

By the time Viktor had dropped Hermione off at the main door of the castle the dinner sitting had been and gone, as he turned from his retreat to say a _final_ goodbye it was to see her looking contemplative before she unexpectedly rushed forward and pulled her arms around his neck, engulfing him in a hug.

"Thank you for a lovely afternoon" she sighed into his ear, her wild curls tickling against his chilled cheek "next time _I_ get to pick the place" she teased, and he shifted his head to lay a quick kiss on her cheek.

"Next time" he confirmed wrapping his arms around her slim waist and squeezing slightly, fighting the urge to pick her up. When she let go he had to drag himself back to the ship; he wasn't sure the vessel perched on the lake had ever looked so cold and unwelcoming as it did now.

When he made it back into the dorm, Mikhail pointed out an envelope laying on his bed.

"It came while you were gone."

Recognising the distinctly considered script Viktor pulled the parchment open as he took off his boots. The letter was, as expected, from his Mother, who was effusive to hear about Hermione, that in itself was a not a surprise. While he had been home for the summer she had _mentioned_ , as she would call it, he would say nagged, that he had yet to bring a girl he was serious about home. He had never brought any girl home, serious or not.

His Mother intimated some reservations about Hermione's age, though she did not echo the Headmaster's warning about being a gentleman, she knew the boy she had raised. There was no word in the whole missive relatable to Hermione's decent other than a short line asking if _she had she any understanding of pureblood ways?_ Viktor had a feeling he knew exactly the _ways_ his Mother was referring to, muggleborn or not Hermione was fifteen, such conversations were a way off, for now at least.

Viktor was stunned that she later suggested him making an introduction while his parents were in Scotland for the final task. He had anticipated they would wait for him to propose a meeting, he had given clear indications of his regard for Hermione and a possible visit when the school year ended, but he hadn't said more than that, _maybe he had betrayed more of his feelings than he intended?_

As he scanned the letter he came to a section about Karkaroff; _watch him Viktor, he made several mistakes as a young man, mistakes that had a significant bearing on the man he became._ He frowned.

"What's wrong," Mikhail asked.

"Nothing it's from my Mother" Viktor replied tucking the letter into his secure box, he would tell his friends about it later; he didn't want talk of the Headmaster to ruin his good mood.

"So how did it go?" Filip demanded, leaning on the edge of his bed, Viktor was amazed he had gone so long without asking, he assumed it must have been killing him to keep quiet while he read his letter.

He dropped back on the bed "perfect; she is just… _perfect_ "

Mikhail made a loud gagging sound and Filip hit him with his pillow.

* * *

Hermione spent the next few days floating around on air. _Pure, blissful air_.

She had enjoyed a relaxing Sunday morning, languishing in her dorm clad in pyjamas, updating Luna and Ginny on how her date went. Hermione was amused to no end that she, the non-sporting one, had taught them the expression _post-match analysis._

Hermione had again delighted when it became apparent that she had managed to make Ginny impressed with her, she explained how she had wiped the powdered sugar off Viktor's mouth and initiated the embrace at the end the afternoon. The lithe redhead had leapt forward so quickly she almost knocked Luna off the bed, placing her hands on either side of Hermione's face.

"My little baby is all grown up and liking a boy" she sang, and the girls collapsed in fits of giggles.

The violent action disturbed the Fireball that had been resting on Hermione's tummy. Luna had brought him along with her when she appeared again that morning 'for a visit', the tiny creature snorted at Ginny aggressively before stomping his way up Hermione's body till he could tangle himself in her hair. He seemed to view her unruly curls as some kind of dragon bedding and promptly fell asleep snoring gently in her ear, something Hermione found strangely pleasant.

Everything was going fine, brilliant even; that should have been her first clue things a major irritant was on its way.

* * *

Hermione was at the lunch table furiously re-editing her Arithmancy equations parchment, Professor Vector had looked over her recent work that morning and suggested a different method for tabulated time differentials that Hermione had found incredibly exciting, she was attempting to weave in the changes while it was still fresh in her mind.

Harry and Ron dropped into the seats in front of her, and she mumbled her 'hellos' while counting on her fingers and wishing she had remembered to bring a bloody calculator into school, something battery and solar powered wouldn't be affected by magic, it _should_ work in the castle. Maybe she could get her Dad to send one; it would make life _so much easier._

The boys were muttering unhappily, but Hermione wasn't paying attention, well not until Ron turned to her;

"Say Hermione you're a girl" he began.

She huffed at the interruption and resolutely remained looking at her parchment as she replied crisply "excellent observation Ronald" before crossing through a few numbers irritatedly.

"Well, you can come with one of us then?" he announced.

"Come with you to what?" she moaned indignantly.

"The ball Hermione" he replied, stretching out the words as if she were particularly slow and her head snapped up.

"I can't" she replied quickly, feeling slightly panicked, she didn't want to tell them about Viktor, Hermione had been unsure of Luna's reaction; she had no desire to make a spectacle of herself in the Great Hall.

"Of course you can come on, you can go with one of us or we could all go together, yeah" he insisted and then turned to Harry as if the conversation was over.

"I said I couldn't Ron, I'm… I'm already going with someone."

"No your not" he said incredulous "you said no to Neville, so who else asked?"

Hermione thought back to when she had questioned whether she liked Ron, she knew deep down that she had held onto those feelings until pretty recently. That had been before this year, things with Viktor were new, slightly fragile and uncertain, but he treated her in a way she realised she deserved to be treated. Even if he wasn't her happy ever after he had taught her about respect, a lesson she should have already known.

"I am" she asserted firmly, and he scoffed.

It was then that she was entirely pulled out of the little bubble she had created for herself while working and she realised how many people were listening in, and not just on the Gryffindor table. This reaction was what she had been expecting when she told the girls; she saw that some of the faces turned in their direction were as disbelieving as Ron's.

"You don't have to believe me" she asserted, but her voice was weaker than she would have liked.

Harry, apparently sensing the atmosphere shift, intervened "Look if Hermione says she's going with someone, she is alright" he said firmly with a pointed look around them that had the desired effect of everyone going back to focus on their plates again.

Ron opened his mouth, no doubt to continue but Ginny had drawn her wand.

"One. More. Word" she warned before sidling up closer to Hermione on the bench and whispering in her ear, "I can't wait to see his face."

* * *

After what she was now referring to as the ' _incident'_ at lunch Hermione had gone to hide in the library after dinner, not wanting to face the common room. Ron's words had made her wonder about Viktor, they had never had a conversation as to whether their meeting up was secret, she had certainly not made it an open concern of the school, she like the privacy it afforded, _but what if he was embarrassed?_

Hermione tried pushed the negative thoughts away quickly; she _knew_ Viktor better than that, he had told his friends about her, taken her on a date and asked her to the biggest event there was ever likely to be while she was at Hogwarts.

 _She needed to stop this_ ; a lovely thing was happening to her, and she wanted to enjoy it.

Hermione settled herself at _their_ table; she might as well do some work if she was hiding but was stopped as chairs were pulled out either side of her in tandem. At the sight of the Weasley Twins, she put down her quill and sat back in her chair prepared for whatever hijinks were about to occur.

"Evening Granger" Fred began spinning the back of the chair in his grasp and turning it so he could lounge on it backwards.

"We do hope you are well" George chimed in from the other side, leaning back and kicking his long legs out ahead of himself.

"We tried to find you in the common room."

"But you were hiding."

"Studying" she protested snappishly.

" _Hiding,_ " they both said at the same time.

"So we thought we would come to you" Fred continued looking over her notes and picking up her quill to insert a comma, correctly, _damn him_.

George sighed "Once again we find ourselves apologising for our brother."

"If it weren't for the red hair we would have suspected he had been picked up from the lost and found box."

"He has none of the Weasley charm that I'm sure you would agree is prevalent in the rest of us in abundance," George said with a comically fast waggle of his eyebrows. Hermione felt her lips quirk despite her best efforts to remain on her guard.

"Anyway don't let him get to you right?" Fred insisted.

"Right" she agreed softly.

"So customary opening apology out of the way" George replied with a wave of the hand.

"Who are you going with?" Fred pressed.

"You can tell us" George asserted.

"You believe me?" she blurted and then felt a bit silly.

"Of course" Fred insisted.

"Making it up isn't your style."

"And you're a crap liar" George interjected, and Fred nodded in agreement, she couldn't help the narrowing of her eyes.

"Either way."

"You're telling the truth."

"So who is it?" Fred pressed again.

"I'd really rather not say" she pleaded, not sure how long she would hold up against their questioning, the fact that there was two of them so in tune with each other always made her feel as if she were on the brink of tripping up.

It was at the exact moment that Fred began to make a more elaborate speech, that had an air of evident prep work, that Viktor rounded the corner and took in the scene in front of him tilting his head slightly.

"Hermione, I come back?" he offered pointing back towards the exit.

"No, no Viktor it's fine, the Twins were just leaving _weren't you_?" she asked with a forceful look in both of their directions.

Their shocked faces were an absolute picture, both remaining stock still for several moments.

George shook it off first "no way" he whispered in total wonderment.

"Yes," she confirmed slightly self-consciously.

"This is absolutely" Fred began still looking a little shell-shocked.

But George was already getting to his feet "utterly priceless" he mumbled excitedly.

George standing seemed to revive his Twin, and Fred looked at her with a genuinely devious smirk across his face "Granger, _you_ are a diamond" he said, delighted.

"I wonder if we can get Dad's wizarding camera in time?" George asked rubbing his hands together in apparent glee.

Hermione shook her head slightly as they walked off, and Viktor walked over to sit down next to her.

"What did I miss?"

"Nothing much, their Ron's brother's my friend, you remember?" at Viktor's nod she continued, "Ron asked about the ball today, I said I was going with someone, a few people didn't believe me. The Twins, Fred and George" she explained gesturing in the direction they had just departed in "they were just trying to work out who it was and well…. you turning the corner like that... I think they know now."

She searched his face for some sign of discomfort, but there was nothing in his eyes to indicate alarm.

"Everyone will know when you walk in with me" he shrugged and began pulling out his books.


	8. Part One - Chapter Seven

_A/N thank you to everyone reading, reviewing and adding to lists, the lovely feedback is incredibly motivating. Part One was only supposed to be ten chapters in the outline but as we are just getting Christmas at Chapter 7 it is fairly clear that it will be a bit longer than that._

 _Yule Ball will be the next Chapter._

* * *

Viktor, Filip and Mikhail were sat in a sort of circle, in various states of concentration, the golden egg from the first task of the TriWizard tournament was resting on the ground between them. No one had spoken for over five minutes; they had exhausted so many possible lines of inquiry they could no longer be bothered to articulate anything lest they might be onto something.

Viktor allowed his head to drop onto the hand resting against his knee cap and yawned animatedly.

"How can this be so difficult?" he moaned.

"It's not" Mikhail answered quickly, as he leant forward and swept up the egg before transferring it from hand to hand "we're just not thinking about it the _right_ way."

He stilled the egg in his grasp and pinched the clasp at the top, as the golden metal cracked open the deafening noise made them all jump back, it didn't matter how many times they listened to it, the screeching that burst from the egg made Viktor start.

"There must be something in that noise that I'm supposed to understand," Viktor said once the egg had thankfully closed again.

"Translation charm?" Filip suggested rubbing a hand tiredly over his face.

"Tried it" Mikhail and Viktor answered at the same time.

"But why would it need to be _so_ loud?" Mikhail pondered putting it back down on the floor.

Something sparked in Viktor's mind, and he sat up straighter picking the egg up "there must be a reason" he muttered, more to himself than the others.

"What about something that inhibits the sound?" Filip proposed, trying his best to be helpful.

"Putting something over it? Or putting it _in_ something?" Mikhail offered.

"I tried burying it under clothes, but the noise just came through" Viktor replied still looking at the egg contemplatively.

Filip reached for one of the discarded books "Something denser? Sand or…."

"Water" Viktor exclaimed leaping up and running to the bathroom, his friends hot on his heels.

He filled the large bath immediately, running both taps as he wasn't sure temperature would play a role. When the tub was half filled, he dipped the egg under the surface and then hesitantly opened it to hear… nothing.

"Well, it certainly kerbs the sound" Filip commented dryly, none of them was willing to get excited quite yet.

"I think you're going to have to stick your head under" Mikhail advised.

Viktor nodded, before ripping off his shirt and submerging his head and shoulders under the surface of the water. As soon as his ears broke the level he could hear clear words, sung to him like music playing to a haunting melody. It took him five attempts at immersing himself and shouting out what he heard until they had a full clue.

 _Come seek us where our voices sound,_

 _We cannot sing above the ground,_

 _And while you're searching ponder this;_

 _We've taken what you'll sorely miss,_

 _An hour long you'll have to look,_

 _And to recover what we took,_

 _But past an hour, the prospect's black,_

 _Too late, it's gone, it won't come back._

"Underwater… for an hour?" Filip said, confirming what they were all thinking. Viktor swiped a towel as he sat down on his bed, drying his hair, they had figured out the secret of the egg, but now he had a new problem.

"Bubblehead charm?" Filip tried again.

"Bit uninventive" Mikhail countered, and Viktor sighed, it would have been the easiest thing to do, but he knew Mihail was right, easy wasn't going to cut it, he would have to do more to win.

"Will have to think on it" he said pulling on a jumper and settling back on the bed, he would start drawing up a plan for his options tomorrow; his brain was wiped after looking at the egg for so long.

Mikhail, who was still reviewing the parchment with the clue looked over to him "what do you think the bit about 'taking what you'll sorely miss' means?"

Viktor shrugged "an object, maybe my broom? Who knows."

* * *

The Yule Ball was fast approaching, and it seemed to be the topic of conversation on everyone's lips inside the walls of the castle. Viktor was finding he couldn't go anywhere without seeing some terrified looking boy approaching a potential date or overhearing endless conversation on possible attire. Typically Viktor would have been irritated by all of the mindless chatter, but he couldn't hold back his excitement. He had figured out the egg and was way on top of his homework so he allowed his mind to wander a little over the upcoming event. He had asked Hermione for her dress colour; she had eyed him sceptically, but he had been firm in the face of suspicion and said it was for the flowers he was getting. She had grinned at him, and with some reluctance divulged that her dress was blue, no more detail than that, she wouldn't go as far as to name the hue, in any case; his dreams got slightly more specific after that.

Two weeks before the event all of the Durmstrang boys were called into the large hall onboard ship after dinner for a 'talk' with the Headmaster. As they had done countless times before, the students stood in their designated spaces not having to wait long before Karkaroff filed through them to stand at the front.

The Headmaster drew himself up taking off his fur hat and coat and placing his hands inside his pockets, if you didn't know him well you would say his demeanour appeared relaxed, none of the boys in front of him would have shared in that delusion.

As he moved to pace in front of them the boards creaked from under his feet "am I correct in assuming, that as I made it an edict you have all selected _appropriate_ dates for the ball?"

"Yes sir" came the resound reply.

"Good" he came to a stop and eyed them all intensely "you are all of age now, men in our world, most of you will be looking at marriage agreements in the next couple of years."

Mikhail scoffed, so low he probably would have been undetected were it not for how quiet the room was, Karkaroff snapped his eyes to him, but there was a curve to his lip that indicated his amusement.

"Yes, even you Mikhail, I have no doubt your Father will impress upon you the benefits of a life outside of purely academic pursuits."

Filip just about suppressed his laughter and Viktor fought his urge to roll his eyes at the situation.

The Headmaster resumed his pacing "I will remind you that we are visiting this school, we have a reputation to uphold, and you _will be_ on your best behaviour.

If I catch any of you so much as thinking of behaving inappropriately, the letter I will send home to your parents will be the least of your worries. If you disgrace this school or me, I will take steps to ensure that the organ that no doubt will have taken the place of your brain for the evening, will be rendered incapacitated. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes Sir" came the fierce, slightly terrified response.

The Headmaster exited the room bidding them good evening, and a few of the assembled may have had a reassuring feel inside their pockets before following in his wake.

* * *

Viktor jogged over the snow dusted grounds, he had charmed his shoes to make the bases stickier after a near miss the day before. The castle looked pleasant early in the morning before its inhabitants had woken up. It was strange being here, in Scotland for Christmas. Usually, he would always spend it at home. It was a hard thing for his Mother; she was already struggling with the idea he would be gone for long periods next year, without having him absent from the holidays too.

He still had to tell her about the house he was planning on buying; Viktor had resolved he would need his own place once he had selected a team, something that would be more convenient for the training ground. He was still to make a decision on his future; he didn't have long left now, but he wanted to ensure he had taken all of the factors into consideration. He was unsure if the curly-haired witch, likely still asleep in her tower, would have an impact on his choice.

He had no guarantees that their relationship, such as it was, would continue past this year, this could have just been a holiday romance, something Hermione would forget about as soon as the ship faded from her view. His feelings were becoming much more certain; he somehow doubted she would fade from his mind so easily, though it was the imprints he was beginning to feel in his heart that he was more concerned with.

Viktor ran past the lake as he chewed everything over, there was something between her and the red haired boy, maybe not a strong affection, but her relationship with him was different to the one she had with Harry.

He just wasn't sure yet if it was something to be uneasy about.

* * *

The Durmstrang boys braved the elements to leave the ship that evening for dinner, Viktor sat down, in what was becoming his usual place, across from Adrian Pucey. The boys had exchanged a few words of conversation over the last two months; Pucey was also hoping to play Quidditch full time after school as well as pursuing a mastery so they had some common ground.

As Viktor began loading up his plate his attention was caught by a boy at the end of the table; he recognised the voice as belonging to Draco Malfoy, a student in Hermione's year that had introduced himself more than once. He didn't pay much attention until he felt Filip tense next to him and he stopped moving to hear better.

"You should have seen… idiots the lot of them looked, well I fired at Potter and what do you know he moved and it smacked Granger straight in the face."

Viktor's hands dropped to the table as the small crowd around the blonde boy laughed riotously.

"Couldn't have turned out better if I planned it" the boy continued smugly.

Viktor looked over to the Gryffindor side of the hall, but Hermione wasn't there, Potter and Weasley were, he angrily registered that they did not appear to have a scratch on them and stood to leave the table.

"Viktor" Mikhail hissed before dropping his voice and speaking in their own tongue "you can't go defending the honour of a girl in the middle of the dining hall, remember what Karkaroff said about us looking like thugs."

Viktor dropped his arm on his friend's shoulder "I'm going to the Hospital Wing, I will take my issues up _in private_ , once I have spoken to her."

Mikhail nodded, and Viktor exited the hall.

* * *

Hermione was sitting on the edge of a cot in the Hospital Wing feeling pretty pleased with herself despite the day she had endured. She had never been so embarrassed as when Professor Snape looked down on her face; her eyes had clouded with tears as he pronounced 'he saw no difference in her appearance'. She had allowed the boys to bring her to Madam Pomfrey's care but after that had asked them to leave, she didn't want anyone to look at her like that.

Hermione didn't have had many vanities, she defiantly ignored her hair and could forgo the glamour charms and make up her peers delighted in, but she had always been sensitive about her teeth. When she was little, she'd had an overbite that had been painfully corrected under her parent's professional care, but they had not been able to do anything about her overlarge front teeth.

Thankfully the charm to reduce the size had been relatively straightforward and as the nurse had held up the mirror Hermione had only waited a _little longer_ to halt the reduction. It had left her with perfect teeth, something she felt rather happy about, if she pushed back thoughts on how she was going to explain it to her Father, her Mother would no doubt understand her actions, but her Father would be disappointed she felt the need to change anything about herself. They had discussed her teeth many, many times.

Hermione was only still there as the speed of the hex had given her little time to react meaning the giant teeth had cut open her bottom lip, Madam Pomfrey had sealed it and applied a paste but insisted she remain there for a couple of hours.

As Hermione reached for one of her books, the Hospital Wing doors swung open, and Viktor swept in. At first, she was concerned he had hurt himself until she saw his eyes scanning the room, when he locked eyes with her he walked forward quickly placing a hand on the top of her arm and dropping himself forward examining her for any signs of distress or damage.

"Heard you were here, you okay? What happened?" he asked quickly, his voice anxious.

"I'm fine" she asserted, smiling with her mouth resolutely closed, her cheeks were a little flushed as she realised she would have to explain.

"Seem good, but heard you were hexed" Viktor pressed.

"I…" she started weakly but it was already too late, she saw Viktor's eyes narrow on her mouth.

"Your teeth?"

Her eyes fell on her lap "I was hit with a hex, while I was outside my potions classroom, it made them grow enormous I looked like a… like a beaver" she admitted quietly pushing her hands together. Viktor snorted, and she looked up indignantly, but before she could mouth off at him, he gripped her chin lightly.

"You are too beautiful to look like beaver," he murmured, and Hermione felt her cheeks heat again for an entirely different reason.

The proximity of their faces was warping her mind, and she sighed not seeing how she could avoid telling the truth "I may have let Madam Pomfrey shrink them back a bit more than they were before."

She looked at him expecting some reaction to her expression of vanity but Viktor's face was impassive.

"Nothing wrong before," he said firmly before dropping onto the cot to sit next to her "but you happy now yes?"

"Yes" she replied in a small voice, and Viktor nodded.

"How did you get hurt?" he asked, and Hermione was grateful for the opportunity to move on.

"It was an accident" she began, and her eyes widened as Viktor's hands gripped the mattress on either side of him hard, his knuckles turning white under strain. Perplexed she laid a small hand over his tense fingers in what she hoped was a comforting gesture.

"It was, I just got hit in the crossfire" she explained.

"If they hadn't been cursing it wouldn't have happened," he said tightly and turned to look at her. His eyes were angry, and she found herself glad it wasn't directed at her "it could have been so much worse" he finished the words sounding like he had ground them out.

Hesitating only briefly she laid her head on his shoulder, and she felt Viktor tense under her cheek for a second before he sagged, casually moving his hand from under hers to wrap it around her waist and pull her closer.

"I have to tell you something" she began falteringly. Honestly, she didn't want to have this conversation, but she wasn't sure when she might get a chance again, and she certainly didn't want to ruin the Yule Ball by bringing it up then.

"Da?" he answered absently.

Hermione sucked in a large gulp of air and closed her eyes "I think… well, _I know_ , that your Headmaster was a Death Eater, during the last war."

She felt Viktor shift his arm from around her waist and her heart sunk, she hesitantly opened her eyes just as he laid a hand on each of her shoulders, his nose almost touching hers.

"I know" he replied.

"You do?" she replied incredulous that he should already be aware, she had planned argument after argument to help convince him, and he already knew?

"It not secret in my country, he may not be good man, but he is good Headmaster."

Hermione felt like she had been hit in the stomach "but he followed Voldemort and he hates people like me, how could you…"

Viktor interrupted her "many people where I am from believed in Grindelwald, this why people think Durmstrang Dark, some parts are... but not all of us. Karkaroff made mistakes, mistakes when he was not much older than me" Hermione made to cut in, but he shushed her, kindly, "can people not change?"

"He _hates_ muggleborns" she argued.

"He does not hate muggleborns; he fears them, he does not know better" Viktor's tone was soothing, but his placating was only making Hermione more irritated.

"That's not an excuse" she snapped, disapproval heating her tone.

"Not making excuses" Viktor responded, and Hermione crossed her arms in front of herself.

"Hermione" he crooned, and she looked up to face him "I do not agree with how he feels, but his crime, now, is ignorance, not malice," he said sincerely, and she felt her anger wilt slightly.

"Fine" she huffed quietly "but this won't be the last time we talk about this."

Viktor nodded in agreement though he failed to smother a smile, Hermione was beginning to think she was screwed when it came to that smile.

"Your lip, does it hurt?" he asked smoothly as his hands ghosted from the position on her shoulder to the side of her neck.

"No" she whispered, she didn't trust herself to speak further as she felt her accelerated heartbeat in her ears.

One of Viktor's large hands splayed across her cheek, and his thumb moved to graze gently over her bottom lip, still slightly swollen from the day's events.

"You will meet people… will tell you, you are not good enough, sadly... this will happen a lot… remember that many people will not care."

He leant forward and placed a firm kiss on her cheek, not on the on the bone, as he had before but almost on the side of her mouth, lingering for a while, so close that she could feel his hot breath on her lips as he pulled away.

"Glad you not seriously hurt, would have been very disappointed not to dance with you," he said soberly though he smiled down at her.

She drew her still heated bottom lip under her new teeth "me too."

* * *

Hermione was once again in the library, with the ball fast approaching Ginny had informed her yesterday that she would need the _whole day_ to get ready. The red head subsequently ignored all of Hermione's protests and with every failed argument Hermione realised that there was no getting out of it. Therefore she had some work to do to get ahead.

She had just finished the second item on her list, crossing it off with a flourish when the seat next to her was pulled out, her face broke into a grin.

"I wasn't expecting to see you… oh hi Cedric" she finished lamely staring at the grinning Hufflepuff champion.

"Not who you were expecting?" he answered in a teasing tone.

"No, well...I" Hermione faltered, and Cedric boomed out a laugh.

"No need for the concern, I know your little secret, by the way, you're a dark horse Granger, who knew under that untouchable reserve was a girl with a hidden appreciation for Quidditch, well at least the players?" he smirked at her.

"How did you…" she asked mystified.

"Krum and I spoke after that thing in the paper, nasty business, all complete crap, of course, I thought something was going on between you too when I saw you in the tent and Krum, well he didn't hide his feelings for you."

Hermione felt a little pleased, and it clearly showed on her face as Cedric rolled his eyes dramatically.

"If you swoon I will not help you, this is already the weirdest conversation ever, and I haven't even got to the point yet."

Hermione sat up straighter, slightly embarrassed to have been caught mooning "don't let me keep you Diggory what is it you need?"

"It's not what I need at all; it's something _Harry needs_ , it's about..." he dropped his voice to a dramatic whisper that was as loud as his normal speaking voice "the egg."

It was Hermione's turn to roll her eyes, _drama school dropout wanted_ , "what about it?" she asked impatiently.

Cedric's brow creased, apparently unhappy with her lack of awe at his proclamation "well I haven't been able to find Potter so tell him from me to take a bath with it."

Hermione stared at him unblinking for a second until Cedric waved his hand in front of her face.

"Hellooo" he called "have I broken you, Granger, that's inconvenient."

She snapped out of it "what do you mean, take a bath with it?" she asked astonished.

"Exactly what I said, it's not difficult Granger, I'll write it down if you need me too?" he needled, and she slumped back in her seat.

"No, it's fine, mad but okay, I'll tell him" she was fast learning that the TriWizard tournament was an entirely bonkers event, questioning its practices seemed pointless at this point.

"Good good" he replied slapping his hands against his thighs drawing a glare from a table of Ravenclaws before he stood up, "so I better go stuff to do and all that, I suppose the next time I see you we will be about to open the dancing."

Hermione felt dread pool in her stomach "who are you taking?" she asked with no real interest, just hoping to distract herself.

Cedric beamed "Cho... Cho Chang"

 _Oh, crap_.

* * *

It was an age before Hermione could get Harry on his own that evening. Ron was still a nightmare about the ball, and Hermione was avoiding him, with the assistance of the Twins, who were running interference. Seemingly all too happy to do whatever she wanted, for some reason they felt that her going to the ball with Viktor was going to top any Christmas presents they got that year.

She relayed what Cedric had said about the egg much to Harry's confusion, he asked her more questions, and all she could do was shrug, she had no more clue what Diggory was on about than Harry did.

"Harry" she began, steeling herself a little.

"Yeah?" he replied absently, now looking at the egg perplexed.

"That's not all Cedric said," she said pulling at the loose hem on the bottom of her jumper.

"Did he have more clues?" Harry asked eagerly, and Hermione narrowed her eyes at him, she knew he hadn't been doing as much as he should have been on the egg.

"Not exactly" she hedged.

"I don't follow," Harry said brows knitting in confusion as he pushed the golden object back in his back.

"While we were talking he… he may have mentioned he was going to the ball… with Cho Chang"

"Ah," Harry murmured "that's… that's great, I'm… well, I'm sure they'll have a great time" he stuttered out avoiding Hermione's eyes.

"I'm sorry Harry," she said gently, looping a hand through his.

"It's fine" he coughed a little and Hermione winced "I hadn't worked up the courage to ask her so… you know, it's probably for the best."

"You should ask someone else you know?" she chided gently, Harry couldn't exactly go on his own if he was expected to dance in front of the whole room.

"Yeah, I should. I'm just so worried about opening the dancing, can you imagine Mione, all those eyes on you?"

Hermione offered what she hoped was a sympathetic smile, no she didn't know, but she would soon.


	9. Part One - Chapter Eight

It only took an hour of the getting ready process for Hermione to start feeling slightly embarrassed about the continued fuss she had made when Ginny had wanted to take the whole afternoon. In her defence hadn't been able to work out what they were possibly going to do that would require over four hours, it was rather humbling to realise she hadn't even considered that a good part of it was just sitting around talking, laughing and bonding. The more time Hermione spent with the girls, the more her confidence built, which was needed, she had been fretting about parading herself in front of the whole school for weeks. Liking her dress helped, though now that it was the day she suddenly wished she had gone for something simpler, less attention grabbing. The thought of Viktor helped more while going with him meant inevitable comments it also meant being by his side for a lot of the evening, which made her feel more confident, _he made her feel more confident._

Luna had arranged for them to use her dorm in Ravenclaw Tower which ended up being perfect, it meant they could avoid the boys and, as none of the other Ravenclaw third years were going to the event, they had the run of the space. Hermione wouldn't have thought that three girls would need so much room, but by the third hour, there was so much stuff strewn about the place you would have been forgiven for thinking the space was at the mercy of twenty witches.

When Hermione had a arrived their dresses and shoes were lined up against the wall in garment bags and both Luna and Ginny were flicking through hair magazines, with Ginny immediately taking the initiative on what she thought would work for each of their outfits, Hermione for once, was more than happy to be led.

Two hours and a platter of sandwiches from the kitchen later and Ginny jumped up in front of them.

"There's a lot to be done," she said seriously, standing up straight, arms on her hips looking like a drill serjeant, a tiny drill serjeant in a lurid green face mask, but still.

"Hermione," she said turning to her with a steely gaze "I know you don't like this stuff, but you pick up charms quick so you can help do the magic for the hair."

Hermione nodded fearing to do anything else and deposited the slumbering fireball in the warm spot she had left on Luna's bed.

* * *

The dorm room became a hive of activity as all three girls rushed around each other ticking items off a list that Ginny had materialised. Hermione had had her eyebrows shaped and her hair conditioned, and once the red mud pack she had been sporting was removed, Luna began experimenting with her makeup while Ginny was showering. Hermione had a moment of fear when Luna approached her face, waving her wand idly in her fingers, but the blonde had a surprisingly light touch leaving Hermione's features enhanced subtly rather than masked completely.

When Ginny had pulled on her startling red dress Luna charmed her thick red hair to fall in loose waves around her face and Hermione had helped apply the minimal makeup required. Not that she would ever have admitted it out loud but Hermione was quite impressed with some of the spellwork invented for cosmetics.

After deliberating for a time they left Luna's hair mainly down, letting her soft, naturally pale waves fall her back, gathering the top and styling it into pinned roses in keeping with the eccentric florals on her gown. Hermione smiled softly when they were done; her friends couldn't have looked more different if they'd tried but were both entirely captivating in their unique way.

It took both Luna and Ginny to get Hermione's hair to sit right. They had originally intended to straighten it completely, but that idea was scrapped, instead her hair was tamed a little before being gathered up towards the nape of her neck, you could still see all of her curls they were just in a more reasonable order, she still looked like herself.

* * *

After leaving Ginny to go and find Neville, Luna and Hermione went to meet up with the Durmstrang contingent and the nerves that Hermione had been attempting to ignore for most of the day resurfaced. It helped to have Luna there as if sensing her discomfort the younger girl chatted the entire way without interruption, mainly total nonsense but the topic didn't matter, the constant flow of babble soothed Hermione, though she couldn't get her brain to work enough to respond.

She had arranged with Viktor to meet him near the main doors, where himself and his fellow students would all be meeting their dates after coming in from the ship. As they descended, a thankful non-moving, staircase Hermione spied him stood slightly off from his peers, with whom she assumed must have been Mikhail. She had seen him with two boys before, heard him talk about them often but had never been sure which was which. Mikhail was tall, like Viktor, but with a leaner form with dark hair and dark eyebrows. He looked serious, but then all of the boys from that school seemed to. She had made it almost the whole way down when as if sensing her approach, he looked up at her. She saw his eyes widen for a second before she averted her eyes; very very focused on descending the last few steps without tripping on either her gown or her, admittedly somewhat conservative, shoes.

Hermione was gripped by panic over how to break the ice, she was used to spending time with Viktor on his own but never in front of this many people. Thankfully Luna again came to her rescue, looping her arm through hers and marching her quickly forward to where their dates were standing.

"Good evening" the blonde began brightly, and both boys bowed formally before returning her greeting. Hermione managed to mumble out a hello but somehow more words were not forthcoming.

"What a lovely tunics" Luna said, eyeing their formal robes with a bright smile "did you know that red dye originally came from the crushing of thousands of tropical insects to make a paste? Muggles still use them for artificial flowers."

There was a beat of silence and Hermione forced herself to speak.

"Erm…" she faltered, "this is Luna" gesturing at her friend and Mikhail stepped forward.

"Hermione, lovely to meet you," he said sincerely before turning to Luna "I understand I have pleasure of escorting you young lady" before reaching forward his arm.

Luna smiled brightly and slid her arm under his and as they walked away in the direction of the Hall Hermione heard Mikhail ask "why to use bugs from only from _tropical_ regions to make paste?"

Hermione felt her anxiety over Luna's enjoyment of the evening sweep away and turned back around to face Viktor. He looked taller in his formal robes, older too. His crimson tunic was fitted firmly against his broad chest, accentuated further by the fur-lined robe belted over one sleeve. For the first time that day she felt like her dress was just right, formal and over the top, as it may have been, anything less wouldn't have matched the meticulous perfection of his outfit. She felt like something out of a fairytale.

Hermione was suddenly self-consciously aware that she had been silent regarding him, but she needn't have worried when she looked back up it was to find Viktor completing his appraisal.

"I am," he said, coughing a little, and looking heavenward for a moment before facing her, with what she thought may have been a slight flush on his cheeks.

"I am glad you did not show me dress before."

"Oh? but you were so insistent earlier this week?" she asked confused as to his sudden turnaround, he was still teasing her that he could make her tell him only a couple of days before.

"Yes, I was fool" he smiled wryly "I wouldn't do anything that change moment I saw you walk down stairs."

Hermione felt robbed of her voice for a second but was saved from replying by commotion starting around them, Viktor seemed to remember himself and stepped forward pulling a box out of his pocket.

"Will you wear my favour?" he asked smiling and she couldn't help return it.

"Yes of course," she said reaching forward and opening the box.

The flowers were a simple circle of white blooms with darkish blue looking centres, they were classic and more elegant than anything she had seen before, she loved them instantly.

"What are they?" she asked gently moving her little finger over a soft petal.

"I do not know you interested in flowers" Viktor replied looking inquisitive.

Hermione flushed "I'm not but…. err, no one has ever given me flowers before and well... My mum will ask what they were I tell her in my letter."

Viktor gripped her wrist in his warm hand and pulled the floral band over the sleeve of her dress before looping it under his arm.

"They are anemone, winter flowers" he explained before dropping his voice "don't tell anyone, asked my Mother what to buy," he said conspiratorially.

"Really?"

"Hermione did you think _I_ ask colour of gown to match flowers?" he smirked and Hermione almost laughed at herself, of course, his Mother would have been the one to get him to ask.

He continued "the only reason I properly attired, Durmstrang makes choices for us," he said gesturing to himself.

"So when you aren't in uniform?" she enquired, wondering what he would look like in his own clothes.

"Are you asking about when clothes are off Miss Granger? We are not even at Ball yet" he teased eyes flashing.

"You know what I meant" she protested hotly but couldn't fight down the colour of her cheeks.

"Ah Quidditch kits... comfortable clothes" he shrugged still with a glimmer in his eyes.

She narrowed her gaze at his continued mirth.

"What?" he questioned with mock innocence.

"That wasn't a very _gentlemanly_ beginning" she chastised.

"That is not true," he said shaking his head "this is not _our_ beginning, when I met you first I was p _erfect gentleman_ you were not like lady" Hermione gasped in protest, but he continued "is true, you in corner talking about my nose."

"I'm so sorry about that," she said earnestly, "I thought the crowd would have covered my words."

"Was not my ears broken Hermione" he laughed at her simultaneously moving away from her ineffective punch in the arm.

His teasing made her flush to the point she considered she might have been in danger of passing out, but it settled her nerves, yes this was different, and yes there would be a lot of people and unfamiliar clothes, but it was still the same Viktor.

There was still one introduction remaining, however; when Headmaster Igor Karkaroff appeared in the hall it made her unsure for a second, when he spotted Viktor he moved directly towards them and Hermione felt unprepared for what she had to do, did she bow? Curtsey? The rules for everything at their school were harsher, more formal.

"Miss Granger," he said, his cool tone sucking the joy that had just been present right out of the corridor.

"Headmaster Karkaroff it is a pleasure to meet you," she said fighting the urge to curtsey to the floor as if she was meeting the Queen.

His face looked as if he was battling against a look of severe distaste, though he managed to get "the pleasure is all mine" out of his clenched teeth before muttering something to Viktor in Bulgarian and slipping down the corridor.

 _Well, that could have gone worse_ , she couldn't find it in her to be offended, after all, he was a middle-aged man she was sure he didn't want to spend the evening speaking to school children. Viktor looked a little bemused but suggested they make their way to the hall, after a couple of moments of silence her curiosity got the better of her.

"Viktor, what did he say?"

'Ah, told me to stop looking _insufferably_ happy" he replied a little self-consciously as if he was unsure of the words and sentiment, and it was Hermione's turn to be silent.

* * *

Viktor led her to outside the Great Hall were the rest of the champions were waiting to go in. As they emerged Hermione saw a radiant Fleur Delacour standing with Roger Davies, all of all people, he had probably been the only one with an ego big enough to assume she would say yes. The pontificating he was renowned for had already got the better of him if the way Fleur's eyes lit up at their arrival was any indication. She marched forward leaving a bemused Roger following in her wake.

"Viktor good to see you and it's Hermione isn't it?" she said turning towards Hermione with such unexpected enthusiasm that she almost took a step back.

"Yes, nice to meet you… properly... I should say" Hermione replied, despite her cheeky wishing her luck before the first task she had never actually spoken to the Beauxbaton champion.

Viktor was dragged reluctantly away into a conversation with Roger and Fleur turned her back on the boys.

"Yes I know your name, we sit with the girls at Ravenclaw table, they have talked about your exam results a few times" Fleur offered in explanation.

Fleur looked down at her dress, and Hermione felt a familiar dread fall over her. A feeling that had been born in primary school when her shoes had been plain and not patent like they were supposed to be, or the following year when she had insisted she get patent only to find everyone now had a slight heel.

"Your dress," Fleur said, stepping forward and running her hand over the sleeve "it's magnificent no, I have never seen anything like it."

"Why thank you" Hermione replied trying to tamp down her disbelief "yours is beautiful... You look truly stunning."

Fleur waved a hand in front of herself dismissively as if she got told that a hundred times a day, which given her appearance was a possibility.

"So you are here with Viktor?" she asked kindly.

"Erm yes" Hermione confirmed still feeling a little strange about people knowing about them, she didn't have very long to get over that she supposed.

Fleur looked over at the boys and Viktor looked back at her before turning to smile at Hermione.

"He likes you," she said with an air of confident authority that Hermione didn't know how to respond to.

"I... I…"

Fleur smiled "it's ok I'm not, how you say _digging for information_ " she clarified with an adorable little burrowing mime with her hands that made both girls laugh.

Viktor despite his calm demeanour started to look like he was at his limit for an idle chat with Roger and Fleur sighed.

"I think you will be having a better evening that me no.."

"Good luck."

Fleur rolled her eyes "I begin to wish I was back with the dragon."

Viktor walked over to her, and they were about to take their place when she heard her name.

"Mione?"

She turned to find Harry, looking rather dashing in his formal robes, staring at her as if he had never seen her before.

"Hi Harry" she responded brightly.

"What are you…" he looked from her to Viktor and then back again with an almost comedic expression on his face.

Further conversation was halted by the arrival of Professor McGonagall signalling there it was time to enter the room, and Hermione felt, by now familiar, butterflies flair in her stomach.

 _The doors creaked open._

Viktor looped her arm back under his.

 _The noise from inside the Hall filtered out into the corridor._

They moved to get into line.

 _Harry and then Cedric disappeared in front of them._

Hermione felt her legs weaken; she was determined to smile as she walked in but with the churning in her stomach it was likely to be more of a grimace.

"Hermione" Viktor whispered at her side as they approached the door, captivating her attention "I am _very_ glad I have honour of being first boy to buy you flowers."

She beamed.

* * *

Viktor pulled her chair out, and they sat at the table when the seat next to her was pulled out she smiled expecting to see Harry or maybe even Fleur and turned only to look into the grinning face of Cedric Diggory. She leant over him to greet Cho and then took the opportunity to take in the decorations of the room while everyone else got settled. The Hall looked like something out of the Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe; charmed icicles hung from the ceiling and a frosted punch fountains lined tables along the walls, the whole space glittered with the illusion of a winter paradise and magic. She hadn't had a chance to look around when they first entered; she had been too busy looking straight ahead, though she had been fairly sure she detected a flash of a camera somewhere.

Soon the plates in front of them were filled with food, and she had the chance to exchange a few glances with Harry, he was sitting too far away for them to talk properly and from the look on his face he had questions that he would want to raise in a more private setting.

"Nice dress Granger," Cedric said from beside her.

"Thanks Cedric, you don't look half bad yourself," she countered breezily.

He huffed, no doubt affronted "such compliments Granger I'll get a big head" he responded dryly.

"Bit late for that wouldn't you say" she challenged, and he mock scowled at her before Cho laughed into her butterbeer.

"Don't you go agreeing with her!" Cedric protested looking down at Cho before they both smiled goofily at each other and Hermione looked back at Viktor who laughed when she rolled her eyes.

* * *

When the tables were pushed aside, Viktor pulled Hermione onto the dancefloor, the empty dancefloor. She exchanged a quick glance of panic with Harry who she absently realised had it worse because he had to lead before she felt a warm hand on the small of her back, Viktor squeezed her fingers gently as he gripped her hands, holding one slightly elevated and she looked up.

"You are nervous," he said, looking at her surprised.

"A little" she confessed "there are just _so many_ people watching" she whispered hoping not to be overheard.

"Pretend they are not there."

"Is that what you do?" she asked, she had wondered how he dealt with the constant attention.

"Do not need to, when I am with you, I do not even see them" he replied earnestly, his offhand honesty was so disarming Hermione could only stare back at him.

The music started and encased in his embrace Hermione forgot everyone else was watching, so much so that when he lifted her for the first time she squealed and erupted into a peel of very uncharacteristic giggles that had him trying to suppress his own laughter.

"Do not make me laugh" he chastised "if I drop you I will be sad."

She smiled at him "I'm amazed you can lift me at all, you should have seen the amount of food we ate this afternoon before coming here."

"Hermione you weigh the same as quaffle, a small quaffle, few sandwiches not make difference"

As she twirled on the floor, they passed Ginny and Neville, who both gave her a very unsubtle thumbs up as they swayed passed.

Viktor was apparently practised in the moves of the dance but didn't have any more natural grace than she did. As a result, their steps were much more clumsy than those of Cedric and Cho, who looked like figure skaters, but Hermione found she didn't mind. By the time the stressed over dance was over, and other couples joined the floor she felt like a coat hanger had been pressed into her mouth from the strain of smiling so widely, for so long.

"Not nervous anymore?" Viktor questioned lightly.

"No she agreed, that was very good advice."

He raised an eyebrow at her "you should not sound surprised Hermione, I am very wise" he said sagely before pushing her up into the air again.

* * *

Hermione and Viktor had fallen into their little bubble, as usual, moving slowly around the dance floor, chatting idly, when a hand on both their shoulders stopped them abruptly. Hermione spun around and faced with another Durmstrang boy, this one slightly shorter than Viktor with an unbelievably charismatic smile and dark blonde curly hair.

"Apologies for interruption," he said brightly before bowing to her "but did not look like my friend would detach himself from you long enough to make introduction so thought I should do so myself. Hermione, my name is Filip it is pleasure to meet you."

Hermione thought she could get used to used to all of this formality, it certainly beat the boys in the tower knicking food off her plate in lieu of greetings in the morning.

"Dance?" he asked.

"I would love to" she replied and put her hand in his proffered one, but Viktor had yet to let her go.

"Now you release her Viktor, it is really very simple" Filip teased, and Viktor groaned looking back at her.

"Do not listen to anything he says about me" he warned before flashing Filip a grumpy expression and releasing his hand at her waist.

Filip was an excellent, if a rather energetic dancer, he didn't talk about Viktor _too much_ , only shared a few stories of hijinks from their younger days. As the music sped up, Filip spun her again and again, unfortunately, faster than she was competent enough to complete. When the final turn ended, she had to jig back quickly to attempt to correct her momentum so she didn't end up on the floor and was grabbed securely and pulled into a solid chest looking up to see Mikhail staring back at Filip completely exasperated.

"I take Hermione now," he said firmly before looking down at her "with her permission?" he caveated, and Hermione agreed.

"You ruin all my fun" Filip whined.

"I am saving your life; you drop her on the floor, Viktor drop you on your head."

She had a much easier time keeping up with Mikhail's steps, but his mind was a different story, apparently having heard that she was supposedly bright he brought up numerous topics that they lightly debated until he seemed to ease off, Hermione wondered if she had passed or failed the test.

"Your friend is very… _interesting_ " he said as they twisted through a cluster of other couples.

Hermione bristled, and he must have perceived her irritation as he looked back down at her brows furrowed.

"It was not insult, she is different, yes, but I meant what I said... she is an interesting girl" he clarified, and Hermione's ire deflated.

"She's… I'm protective of her" she explained "and… well, I'm used to being around people who deal in subtext more strongly than people from your corner of the world seem to."

He smiled, it had a transformative effect on his face.

"I only ever say what we mean, and I understand protective instincts, Hermione."

* * *

Hermione wasn't sure how long she had been dancing, but she started to feel a bit like a football being passed from one player to another until she stilled to see a grinning Fred in front of her. His greeting was somewhat less formal than she had so far been given that evening but no less welcome. He was a surprisingly good mover; all that confidence had to help she supposed.

"Having a good time Granger?" he asked waggling his eyebrows, and she fought down the blush on her cheeks, that really wouldn't help with his teasing.

"Yes thank you, you?"

"No complaints, I have a favour to ask, though"

"Oh?"

"I would like a signature from Krum if you can get it? Preferably on the photo we have taken of Ron were it looks like a Blast-ended Skrewt has been shoved down his trousers and told to make itself comfortable" he laughed out, _she knew she had seen a flash_. She had yet to see Ron that evening; Harry had come to say hello a few times, but she had not so much as bumped into her other friend.

Hermione scoffed into his shoulder "I'll ask."

Fred gave her a quick look up and down "you should do yourself up more often."

She mock glared at him.

"None of that face Hermione, you know we all like you as you _normally_ are. After all, where would we all be in Gryffindor Tower if we didn't spend our days deliberating whether the moulted hair all over our clothes belonged to you or Crookshanks?"

Hermione had begun verbalising her caustic response when he suddenly twisted them the other way.

"Smile for the camera" he called, and she looked up just in time to see George in front of them before the flash went off.

"I would tease you more, but Krum is a pretty big bloke, and he's been watching us since I took over" he whispered dramatically and a couple of seconds later Viktor reappeared asking if he could cut in. He pulled her closer to him when they began dancing again.

"I was wondering if I would get you back tonight," he said with a pronounced pout.

"Who have you been dancing with?" she asked smiling at his grumpy expression.

"Not many people, but did dance with Ginny, she is protective of you."

"Oh?" she asked smirking, knowing her friend well enough to assume the way their conversation might have gone.

"Da, she learnt Bulgarian to make point, very particular phrase," Viktor said his eyebrows knotted.

Hermione laughed "she means well."

"Well is nice to be back dancing with you."

"Yes, it is."

They moved silently around the floor for a couple of songs before Hermione realised Viktor's face was pulled into a slight frown.

"Is everything okay?" she asked tilting her head to try and see his face better.

"Da," he said noncommittally "just difficult."

"What is?" she pressed.

"Want to be able to speak, to tell you so much, but is hard as…. English still difficult, must sound stupid" he ground out sounding exasperated.

Hermione was surprised by his admission he seemed so unaffected generally "you don't sound silly, and you are more articulate than you think, you speak pretty good English now, it will get easier."

He huffed a little, and she bit back a smile as she realised he was ever so slightly sulking.

"Teach me how to say something in Bulgarian." she said finally.

"Why?"

"Just do it" she snapped feeling confident enough to boss him about a bit.

"Okay, say Kade e toaletnata?"

"Kady eee tonata" she winced but not as much as he did "see I butchered it" she laughed.

Viktor stared at her intensely for a few moments before smiling "thank you, Hermione, you always know what to say."

She blushed "so what was I saying anyway?"

He smirked "believe you were _trying_ to ask where bathrooms were" and they both laughed.

"Do you want drink? I do not want to let you go but should ask, as we talked about I am gentleman."

Hermione sighed and nodded allowing herself to be escorted from the floor.

* * *

While they were standing by the fountain, they were joined by Filip and Mikhail who had Luna in tow. When Ginny almost skipped over, she enthusiastically introduced Neville to the Durmstrang boys before he began animatedly talking to Hermione about his whole evening clearly having the time of his life.

Hermione managed a few words in broken French to Filip's date Claudia, before she was pulled aside by Ginny.

"Neville is amazing, like seriously good footwork for a boy that walks about like he's only just learned to stand."

"Ginny" Hermione chastised.

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding" Ginny defended.

They commented on Claudia looking exhausted, which was no surprise given Filip's enthusiasm and talk turned back to Ginny's partner.

"He's spoken about you a bit tonight" Ginny confided.

"Really?" she asked concerned.

"Don't worry" Ginny reassured her "it was sweet really, and in any case, I may have pointed him in the direction of Hannah Abbot" at Hermione's confused expression she clarified "she's got a crush on him."

"Thanks, Ginny" Hermione responded, relieved.

"That's what I'm here for Hermione, though if you start dressing like that all the time I might need more resources. At the moment it's only the nice boys that have the intelligence to seek you out, but if I have to start dealing with superficial idiots as well my rate goes up."

Hermione saw Ron and Harry hovering on their own a little way off and excused herself to go and say hello to her other friends.

* * *

The conversation around Viktor continued but he paid it no real attention, his eyes were once again firmly fixed on Hermione, he hadn't been kidding earlier when he said he was struggling with his articulation, but a lot of it wasn't even down to the language barrier. She had looked breathtaking when she came down the stairs, not that she didn't always look captivating but seeing her in that frosted blue gown was a whole new experience for him.

He was about to turn back around and force himself to stop staring at Hermione talking to her friends when he saw a flash in the red head's eyes. When her friend got up from the table, Viktor watched his fists clench and unclench and before he knew it he had started walking. He didn't want to interfere; it wasn't his business, but he would make sure she knew he was there if she needed him. Before he could make it to her side Hermione had shouted and was hurrying out of The Great Hall.

* * *

The castle being unfamiliar to him did not make it easier to find her, but he was determined. Helpfully he had at least caught sight of the direction she scurried off in, someone with such short legs should not be able to move so quick.

When he found her she was slumped on the bottom step of the staircase, voluminous skirt puffed around her, trying to control her breathing and dabbing at her face. Reaching into his pocket he pulled out a handkerchief which he pushed into her hands and sat down next to her. He didn't try to say anything at first, her breath was catching, and he didn't want to force her to speak while she was obviously so upset, so he stretched an arm around her shoulders, rubbing the tops of her arms until he could feel her relax beneath his fingers.

"So… Sorry" she panted out, chest still heaving.

"Don't apologise" he murmured "you have falling out?"

"Yes," she admitted in a small voice, using his handkerchief to wipe the tear tracks from her cheeks.

Viktor collected his thoughts for a moment before proceeding "you care for him?" he asked stiffly.

Hermione stilled under his hands, and he knew she had grasped his meaning.

"I did" she answered finally.

"Not anymore?" he pressed.

"Not anymore" she confirmed.

"Because of row?"

She looked up at him then, her bottom lip pulled under her teeth and her face all puffy.

"No not because of the row" she whispered, "I… I haven't thought of him like that for a long time, maybe I never did, I think it may have ended before it had actually begun in my mind."

"Will you come back in?" he asked not wanting their night to end like this, looking up briefly when he could hear movement at the end of the corridor.

"My face?"

He pointed to the end of the corridor where a murderous looking Ginny and a worried looking Luna were marching in their direction as fast as their heels would allow.

"There you are" Ginny called, grabbing Hermione's arm and tugging her up "come with us" she demanded.

Viktor went to step forward but Luna stopped him "we will have her back in five minutes" she promised before disappearing off.

* * *

Mikhail was waiting subtly by the doors when Viktor got back into the hall.

"She is okay?" he questioned handing him a glass of punch.

"She is… she will be fine" he breathed out though he couldn't help the glare he sent over in Ron's direction.

Mikhail followed his line of sight "don't lose your temper, he's fourteen" Viktor opened his mouth to protest, but the other boy cut him off.

"Before you say anything Hermione is fifteen and more mature than the rest of us, besides your intentions are honourable no?"

"Yes" he gritted out "it doesn't mean I can't think he's a dick, though"

Mikhail laughed "don't pout; I said don't hit him, I didn't say you couldn't scare the shit out of him, just not tonight, no more incidents."

Both boys abruptly stopped talking when unexpectedly, Harry stopped in front of them.

"Err... is Hermione okay?" he asked rubbing the back of his neck.

"She is fine Potter, is with Ginny and Luna, will be back soon" he gritted out, _where had Potter been when Ron was shouting at her?_

"Good good," he said rocking back on his heels "honestly this… her being here… with you… was a bit of a surprise really."

Filip came over, and they exchanged a glance.

"Oh?" he questioned lightly.

"Well yeah… I mean… Hermione doesn't even like Quidditch."

He felt himself smile "Potter when you are man you will understand there are _many things_ to talk to a beautiful witch about that do not include how well you ride a broom."

"Though that can be good thing to say too" Filip interjected, and Viktor coughed into his hand.

"But Hermione hates flying," Harry said looking totally confused when Mikhail snorted into his glass, and Viktor punched him in the arm.

* * *

After Hermione was back, they made it back onto the dancefloor for a while before Viktor was aware it was getting late and wanting to be able to have a more private goodbye asked Hermione to come outside with him.

They moved outside the main doors to see the grounds subtly lit up with a series of twinkling blue lights hanging, seemingly suspended from nothing. They walked around for a little while before settling under a large gazebo that had had warming charms applied around it.

"It's so lovely out here; this was an excellent suggestion."

"Too many people in there, haven't had you to myself all evening" he teased "I am used to having your undivided attention, you are making me selfish."

She laughed at his behaviour before he noticed her shudder slightly, getting to his feet he loosened the straps on his cloak, she made some soft protest reading his intent, but it was clear she was grateful as he delicately dropped it over her shoulders and he saw her almost sag under the weight of it.

"Thank you" she breathed out, and he smiled likely the look of her in his clothes, in his colours.

"You welcome" he replied leaning forward to fasten the tie around her neck to keep her warm.

As he bent to reach her, his eyes dropped to her lips for a moment, and as if compelled he reached a hand to cup her cheek delicately. He paused to luxuriate in the soft skin he was in contact with before he looked up to her eyes checking her expression for any sign of hesitation, finding none.

"Hermione," he said, inches away from her face "I am going to kiss you now."

He waited just long enough to see her subtly nod and moved to drop the softest of kisses against her lips that were cool from the night air. He had intended to pull away immediately but when he saw her eyes flicker shut just before he came in contact he changed course. He kissed her again, gently, moving the hand from her cheek into her hair and twisted a loose curl about his fingers. As he kissed her a third time he felt her begin to respond, tentatively, but surely and his other hand moved to her waist to pull her closer.

Finally, reluctantly, he pulled away, wrapping both his arms around her slender waist and pulling her in for a hug, dropping a kiss on her forehead.

"Sŭvŭrshen" he whispered into the cold night sky as he wondered how on earth he would leave her at the end of the year.

* * *

 _A/N so that was the ball, I will be posting the_ girl's _outfit_ inspo _on Tumblr for anyone that likes to see that sort of thing._

 _That last word is 'perfect' by the way, or it's supposed to be, it was done using an internet translator which, like me, is fallible._


	10. Part One - Chapter Nine

_A/N_ apologies _for the delay in getting an update posted, RL has been all consuming over the last month. However now things are starting to quieten down and I should be able to get back to more regularity, at least up until the end of part one. Thank you to everyone for your lovely comments on this tale and the pairing._

* * *

Hermione woke up slowly, pulled from a warm, comforting dream to discover she was surrounded by more limbs than was normal. A pale arm was wrapped lightly over her stomach, and she could just make out a foot somewhere near her hipbone that wasn't hers, not unless she had somehow become a skilled contortionist without her knowledge.

Vague memories from the end of the previous evening crept into her consciousness; walking back into the main hall from the grounds, feeling _so light_ she was sure it was only Viktor's had wrapped around hers that kept her on the ground. Saying goodnight when the music died, words exchanged earnestly, but not as intimately, as they had before, surrounded as they were this time by a crowd of their friends all of whom were similarly engage. She recalled walking back to the dorms with Luna and an excitable Ginny and Neville. All of them had wanted to hear about each other's evenings but by the time they made it back to the tower were all too tired to try.

Twisting her head around as much as she was able Hermione saw a mass of spiralling blonde hair that was so knotted it resembled a flaxen cloud. As she looked closer, she could make out the remnants of the braided flowers that they had charmed in the night before. If Luna's hair looked like that, she could only imagine how bad her hair looked.

As she laid her head back on the pillow Ginny, who was tailing between them, suddenly levered up without warning making Hermione jump. Her friend's eyes darted around the unfamiliar room for a moment before her bleary expression landed on Hermione and instantly gained more focus.

"Well that's adorable," she remarked croakily, voice thick with sleep, "you look like a miniature poodle." _That's what you get for wondering Hermione._

Ginny pulled herself up as she wiped her face, dragging pillows behind her to prop herself up till her seated for bore down on Hermione "so" she began loudly "tell us _everything_ " she drew out the last word and emphasised it with the widening of her eyes. Hermione sighed though her heart wasn't really in it. A rustling to the side of her head alerted them that Ginny's movements had woken up Luna, who eyed her from the other side of their shared pillow.

With a mostly affected air of being put upon Hermione related all of what had gone on the night before, what she was willing to share at least. Viktor's teasing words steadying her nerves, his pouting when he lost her to other dance partners and the _incredible_ care he had taken of her all evening, while never treating her like she was spun glass. Several rude words were exchanged between the rapidly waking girls when she mentioned Ron but the constant flow of adlibbing that had been going on since she started speaking faded away entirely when she got to the bit where she said they had gone outside.

"... He insisted I have his cloak and he bent down to fasten the ribbon at the top, and as he got close he said 'Hermione I'm going to kiss you know' and he… well he did" Hermione blushed furiously, and there was nothing she could do to stop the dreamy expression that entered her face or the slight awe like quality her voice had taken.

"Well?" Ginny pressed impatiently and at Hermione's blank face she shook her head "how was it?" she asked in a squeaky voice.

"It was.." she started, and Ginny narrowed her eyes at her.

"If you say _nice_ Hermione Granger so help me…"

Luna let out a peal of giggles next to her and Hermione smiled "I wasn't going to say that" she defended "though it _was_ … I just didn't know how to describe it."

She looked up at the canopy of her small bed, collecting her disordered and cloudy thoughts. It didn't help that she felt as if she had dreamt the whole thing, not that the memory wasn't clear in her mind, she could recall it with complete lucidity, it just was so magical it felt unreal.

"I was so upset that Ron might have ruined the night and then as I was sat there on the stairs, I started to think that maybe I had ruined all by myself by reacting at all. I could have just fronted it out, I normally would have done, I'm still not sure why it got to me so much but… I was feeling so happy; everything was so perfect, and then Ron had to go and burst the bubble, I just wanted one night where everything went right." Luna moved to snuggle her head against Hermione's shoulder, and Ginny remained resolutely silent, something of a miracle in itself.

"Then Viktor appeared, right when I was contemplating how I was going to explain everything, he wasn't cross or put out or anything, and he was just so direct, and he made me feel better. Because that's what he does. He comes along, and although when I think about him he makes me feel awkward and off-kilter and out of my depth it's never the same when he's there. When he is with me, everything complicated becomes easy, I never worry about what he thinks because he just says it.

Then we went outside, and it was cold, dark and for a moment I felt this weight of expectation and fear, but then there were these soft twinkling lights everywhere and he looked down at me and... _it was perfect_. It was a moment beyond capable description. For once I let myself be in the present, I didn't think about how things like that never happen to me or what it all meant I just let it happen, enjoyed it for what it was because… because I trust him.

I trust him not to hurt me, as much as he is able and while he might not be around forever, I think he would go out of his way to be respectful. So to answer your question it was incredible, one of the best experiences of my life, so romantic that practical little me shouldn't have enjoyed it nearly as much as I did."

She looked up to find Ginny regarding her wide-eyed "It's like a fairy story" she said slightly awed "an actually fairy story."

Luna sat up stretching out her arms in an attempt to shake off the lingering sleep. "That sounds lovely," she said dreamily "though I wouldn't advise you go to any of his Quidditch games Hermione."

"No?" she questioned looking back at her friend who was studying her knotted hair with a faint frown.

"Decidedly not, he could take his eyes away from wherever you were in the room, I imagine that might be a distraction in his chosen profession."

Hermione smiled at the earnest nature of Luna's suggestion, and she nodded at the _sage_ advice.

"How was your date?" she asked, untangling herself from the covers, it was unlikely any of them were going back to sleep now.

"Good, Mikhail was somewhat hesitant to take on board the implications of a Snorkack infiltrating the Bulgarian ecosystem but surprisingly had a rather sophisticated understanding of the vampire infiltration in the European Government. Apparently, there are three separate nests of vampires fighting for dominance from within the Bulgarian government alone; I imagine the undead are quite in vogue over there."

Ginny rolled her eyes good-naturedly and sprang from the bed, "I _obviously_ have a million more questions, but we are going to need supplies, let's head to breakfast ladies and then we can reconvene."

* * *

In the weeks that followed the Yule Ball Hermione sensed that Viktor had become a little more overt in his attentions towards her. It was nothing that anyone would have picked up on, unless they were looking, which, she realised more people were. Though as there had been no great declaration following their attending a dance together, it seemed the student body at large appeared to believe they were friends, something that suited Hermione fine. While Viktor hadn't said anything to suggest he wanted a relationship with her, he did nothing to dissuade the notion either. He stopped to talk to her if they passed in the corridors, asking her about her day and touching her almost absentmindedly. It wasn't just him. Since the hesitant introductions and dancing together at the Ball she saw a great deal more of Filip and Mikhail as well.

Despite the increased attention she hadn't seen Viktor privately in weeks, very uncharacteristically she was aware that she was beginning to feel the deprivation of his company. They hadn't had any conversations about what happened, about _the kiss_. On the one hand, Hermione was glad; she was just getting used to her increased feelings and having to define something now might have been too soon. But the other hand, the hand that saw the way girls looked at him wherever he went, well that hand wanted that security of _knowing_ that this wasn't just a passing fancy for him, as she was becoming aware it was a lot more than that for her.

Viktor had explained in their caught moments together how his time was not own, on top of his regular studies and TriWizard preparations he was also having to start getting ready for the upcoming Quidditch season. Considering the dawning of January had brought the beginning of classes his lack of time was something she could understand, even empathise with, though not enjoy.

As such it somehow got to mid-January before they got to spend any _quality_ time together at all. They had arranged a study meeting in the library, though, through agreement, and possibly some design, their friends were there as well. Since _the kiss_ , Hermione's nerves, which had been slowly disappearing, had reignited and fluttered to the surface whenever he was around. She began feeling awkward around him again, prone to shuffling feet and limited conversational skills, she had been concerned that he would be offended by her change in demeanour but the slight smirk he got on his face whenever she became flustered suggested otherwise. The same changes did not seem to affect him if anything Viktor seemed _more relaxed_ than ever.

But her nerves would not have stopped her from seeking him out, the comforting buffer of Ginny and Luna was not to put a wedge between them more to prevent unwanted attention. People may have overlooked them going to the ball together but that would soon change if they were spotted on their own regularly.

So they found themselves sprawled out on one of the larger tables towards the back of the Library, not far from the little table where they used to sit together. Luna was perched at her side, no parchments or quills in front of her, she merely held a single slim book upside down, the text was in a language Hermione thought might have been some form of elvish. Hermione barely blinked at her, having known that despite appearances this was Luna at study, lack of notetaking notwithstanding. The slightly perplexed expression of Mikhail as he watched her blonde friend suggested this was something of a revelation to him and Hermione bit back a smile when his eyebrows raised as Luna dropped to the floor to lean her back against the now empty chair.

Mikhail was sat opposite them. Following their intense conversation as they danced, he seemed to want to get to know her, and once he had managed to tear his gaze away from the now murmuring blonde at her feet, he asked Hermione questions about the work she was doing and made recommendations of texts to further evidentiate the essays she was completing. He was smart if a little blunt in his advice and Hermione felt with further time spent with him she could grow to like him immensely. He worked in a neat and concise order, moving through a structured to do list and ticking things off regimentally.

Filip was somewhat different, since the ball he had been like an excitable child whenever she was near, peppering her with questions of a simpler nature and drawing her into detailed debates whenever he could. Unlike with Mikhail Hermione never felt like he was testing her, rather he included her, forcing her to be an integral part of the conversation. Filip was not someone you grew to like over the course of a deepening acquaintance, you couldn't help yourself but become wrapped up in him from the moment you met him, he was dramatic, emotional and utterly charming.

Filip's working style seemed to be an extreme form of organised chaos, or rather to her it looked like chaos, though given his calm demeanour there must have been at least some method to his madness. As for her friends Hermione was not entirely convinced Luna and Ginny were doing anything other than messing with the boys.

In fairness it wasn't Luna's fault that she discombobulated them so much, she did that without conscious thought, Ginny, however, was devious to a fault, and if she was going to spend her afternoon in the library, she would do it in a way that provided her amusement. As such the redhead had dedicated the last twenty minutes to encouraging Viktor from his comfortable seat at the table to go to the nearest bookshelf and to reach for books higher and higher up while making pointed appreciative faces at Hermione every time he stretched. Hermione valiantly attempted to keep a straight face but after Viktor reached for a particularly high shelf and the back of his shirt lifted to reveal the muscled skin of his lower back she couldn't help the reluctant smile that crept across her face. Sadly she had been too distracted by Ginny's poorly muffled whoop of victory to notice Viktor had turned back around. His raised eyebrow in her direction seemed to suggest he knew exactly what was going on.

Seeing suspicion written all over his face Hermione jumped to her feet quickly, before she had even thought what she could use as an excuse, and made to dash to the other side of the library. "Erm," she said as all eyes turned to her following her abrupt movement "I'm just going to visit the Astrology section."

In reality, she had no desire to do such thing; she had selected all of the relevant books for her study already like she always had. After exchanging some looks around the table with the assembled knowing eyes, she pushed out the chair from behind her and walked passed Viktor on her way.

"I will come" he declared rounding the table quickly.

"I don't need you to carry for me," she remarked shortly, embarrassment at having being caught ogling him making her uncomfortable.

It appeared, however, that Viktor was unperturbed "I know" he replied as he fell into step beside her, his long strides easily matching her hurried ones. "But you may need me to reach them, you are shorter than Ginny" he winked at her, and she felt the heat rise into her cheeks.

"I'm a witch Viktor I could just levitate them" she protested marching quicker.

"But then how would I prove to be useful?" He cooed, and Hermione started.

"You don't need to prove yourself to me," she whispered.

He looked at her more seriously "don't _need_ to Hermione, _want_ too."

She stopped walking his declaration, suddenly feeling incredibly silly for attempting to run off just because she was embarrassed or did until Viktor leant down and whispered into her ear "if it makes you feel better, the quill I dropped before may not have been accident." With that he marched off in the direction of the Astrology section leaving her staring after him mouth hanging open.

As it turned out, despite her assurances to the country, Viktor was helpful, not just because she allowed him to get down the books she needed, resolutely looking at the floor while he leant up, he also carried them. Though after a few minutes of quiet chat her brain began whirring, she had a few things on her mind that she needed to raise with him. It would have been fine, awkward but fine if they didn't have such limited time together. She didn't want to spend their one slot in potential disagreement, but she had felt like she had upset him last time by keeping quiet, now they knew each other better, not to say anything now would be inexcusable.

"So" she began securing her teeth into her lip to try and suppress her wince, she really didn't want to have this conversation.

"Da," he said his face becoming more serious as he picked up on her change in tone immediately and settled down the pile of books he had been holding.

"I have a couple of things to mention, and I'm not sure which is more… _difficult_ " she forced out shifting on her feet.

He smiled indulgently at her "go on."

"I don't know if you figured out the egg yet, but Cedric told me something to tell Harry…" Viktor's face darkened slightly, and she shot her hand out to rub his forearm in what she hoped was a consolatory gesture. "They're not colluding against you or anything, Harry supposedly helped Cedric for the first task, and he was repaying the favour" she assured him, dropping her hand as his gaze became unclouded. His eyes remained intense, apparently paying keen attention to whatever she was inelegantly trying to say.

"Anyway he gave me a clue, a very vague clue, and after the whole thing with the dragons I felt… I thought I should find out if you were fine because… well, it wouldn't be fair... if I knew something that could help you" she risked looking back up once she had finished rambling to find him looking down at her softly.

"Hermione, do not worry have sorted it" he assured quietly.

"Really, that's wonderful" she replied, relief sweeping through her.

"Da, would like to speak to you about it but…" he looked regretful, but Hermione understood, the situation was not ideal.

"I understand… it's um… well... I look forward to talking to you about it afterwards… I'm sure you'll come up with something brilliant" she said brightly, and there were a couple of moments of silence while they readjusted themselves from the surprisingly tense conversation.

"So…" Viktor said eventually "What was second thing?"

"Ah, well" Hermione muttered _, one down one to go_.

She reached into her pocket and with extreme reluctance pulled out a small magical photo, of Viktor. In it, he looked exactly how he had appeared in all of those images she had seen everywhere at the world cup. Clad in the deep red kit of the Bulgarian National side and scowling at the camera, his hair was slightly shorter than he wore it now and despite it obviously being him the image looked barely familiar to her.

"I was wondering if you wouldn't mind signing this? I know it's stupid and… Well the Twins, _Fred and George_ , they asked me... and they have been really nice to me lately…" she faltered. The situation made her uncomfortable, it wasn't the request at such, more the reminder that he was a famous wizard, someone worthy of an autograph. He seemed to like her most because she disregarded his notoriety, she didn't want to give rise to thoughts that he had been wrong in that assessment of her.

Viktor leant forward taking the parchment from her hand but rather than letting it drop he twined his fingers through hers tightly.

"Are you sure this not for your Hermione?" her initial relief at the levity in his tone was thwarted by her flush as she fully understood what he was asking, undeterred by her silence he continued, "because if you want autograph I could get you better picture."

She tried for a scowl, but she knew she was completely ineffectual. "No Viktor, if you could sign it for my friends please, I would be most grateful" she replied in her primmest tone and made to emphasise her scolding by walking away from him. She didn't get far, using the reflexes that had given rise to the necessity of her request, he caught her before she moved past him, wrapping an arm around her middle and pulling her into him.

"I have missed you," he said into the top of her hair, and she sagged into him.

"I… me too" she managed finally before pulling back from him so she could look up into his face.

"Once task is over maybe we could have another date?" he asked, and she smiled at him.

"That would be nice" she replied words that barely covered the elation, Hermione felt like a weight she had only been half aware she was carrying had fluttered away.

After their time together the next few hours of study flew by quickly and all too soon the boys were heading back to their ship before dinner. Viktor darted his eyes quickly around them dropping forward he placed a blink and you'll miss it kiss against her lips before he rushed off to catch up with his friends. Filip must have found something in his behaviour amusing as they had only gone several paces when he was swiftly punched in the arm by Viktor and Mikhail in quick succession.

Ginny's eyes followed them and unashamedly leant over Hermione as they began to disappear from view. As they finally turned the corner she turned to Hermione in puzzlement "you've been studying together for months? How do you get anything done?"


	11. Part One - Chapter Ten

It took a little while longer than Hermione had been anticipating for Harry to broach the subject of Viktor with her. Her friend and her… whatever _he_ was had spoken at the ball, she already knew that much from Luna, who, when dancing with Mikhail had been filled in on their conversation. She didn't go into specifics, but for whatever reason, the Durmstrang boys were minded to think that Harry was _ok_ , well, more ok than Ron in any chase. Though it wasn't conclusive proof that all would be well Hermione felt relieved, her relationship with Viktor, such as it was, didn't, _couldn't_ take away from Harry being her best friend. TriWizard tournament or no TriWizard tournament.

It had been evident in the run-up to the dance that Harry was as much at sea when it came to dating and all its trappings as she was, possibly eve more so. He hadn't handled the Cho situation overly well after all.

Harry approached Hermione in the common room, pulling out a seat at one of the large study tables where she had settled herself, surrounded by parchment and open books. She didn't generally study in the common room, preferring absolute silence that she would never typically find in the tower. However, the library had lost some of its perpetual sheen now Viktor didn't have time to come and join her anymore, a thought she would never _repeat_ to anyone, not even Luna.

"So… you and Viktor" he awkwardly began as he dropped into the seat beside her. Hermione's hand stilled in the middle of her complex sentence; Normally she would have ignored an interruption, making that person wait until she had finished, but not this time. She looked up at her friend waiting for him to continue and when it was apparent that was all he had intended to say she sat up a little straighter and folded the book she had propped open giving the matter her full attention.

"Me and Viktor" she answered softly not sure of where he would go now.

"So are you?" Harry pressed, and Hermione felt the beginnings of a headache, this was going to be even more faltering that she had thought possible.

She headed him off "for right now, we are friends, and we are spending time together. Anything else... I just don't know yet" she answered honestly.

She could tell from the corner of her eye that despite their deliberate low tones they were starting to attract attention. Her gaze darted around the room, and when they connected with Harry, a slight blush on his cheeks as if he was only just realising the potential for eavesdroppers. Shrugging at her he quietly suggested a walk and she accepted. Once they had wrapped themselves up to face the crisp weather they headed for the portrait hole and by silent agreement moved towards the lake.

"You kept it quiet… _really quiet_ " Harry began as soon as they were far away from the main entrance and Hermione felt her heart sink. She had been expecting some admonishment from her friend, and a deserved one at that. She had _deliberately_ kept her friendship with Viktor a secret if the shoe had been on the other foot she would have been hurt too.

It was somehow easier with Ron because she had known he would overreact. Therefore she had a built in justification for her omittance. It was inevitable that he would say or do something to rule himself out of deserving an explanation, but not Harry. Harry had been surprised by her being with Viktor at the ball, but even so, his first impulse had been to ensure she was ok, he had spoken to her often in the evening and had gone so far as to check up on her with Viktor when she had been upset.

She nodded in agreement; she couldn't argue.

"Why?" Harry asked softly.

"Not sure really" she answered honestly "I don't know if I wanted anyone to question it, I didn't want to question it" she explained looking at the floor. Those early feelings of inadequacy when it came to Viktor weren't wholly gone; she had feared even her closest friends incredulity.

"I'm not just anyone Hermione; _I'm your friend_."

Hermione winced at the earnest plea in his tone, but she was angered by it too, just a little. The same anger that surfaced whenever Harry sided with their other friend, "and Ron?" she questioned, her voice slightly barbed.

"Well, I understand that he…" Harry seemed unsure of how to finish his sentence and Hermione could hardly blame him. Relations between her and Ron had been decidedly frosty since the ball, but the tension, at least on her side had dissipated, there was no point crying over spilt milk. She had been hurt, he was her friend and his words had been unthinking and cruel, but she had gotten over it. Ron and her argued that was their dynamic as friends, as friends it worked, as a relationship… well, it had the potential to be borderline unhealthy.

"I suppose I wasn't sure how you guys would take it" Hermione interjected, not sure Harry would finish his point "and then... The tasks and everything" she voiced quietly, she didn't expect Harry to accuse her of fraternising or any such thing, but she was still cautious.

Harry's eyes softened, "Hermione you need to tell me these things" he asserted firmly.

"I will… I'm sorry Harry I really am; it wasn't my intention to keep it a secret for so long. At first, I didn't say anything and then it just spiralled into something until I wasn't sure how I would even begin anymore."

"How did it even start?" Harry asked looking at her bemused, a weak imitation of his face the moment he had first seen her at the ball.

"Well, you remember at the World Cup how he…"

"At the World Cup, you met him at the WORLD CUP!" Harry screeched, Hermione nodded scared to say anything else incase she said something that set him off again. Harry sighed and waved a hand over his face "disregard everything I just said about honestly, _never_ tell Ron you met then; he might expire."

"Okay I won't" Harry made a rolling continue motion with his hands and Hermione gulped in a breath "well he came up to the box we were in, and he must have heard me muttering to Ron about how no one had fixed his nose... I think I got wrapped up in how poorly he was being treated and -

"Typical" Harry muttered.

\- forgot myself" they exchanged a smile and she felt a little lighter, they moved to sit on one of the benches that faced back towards the castle, and she bundled over next to him for warmth.

"So he came over, and we briefly chatted, though his English wasn't as good then and somehow I… I ended up healing his nose" she softly admitted.

"And none of that merited a quick mention later on? Or is conversing with one of the most famous sportsmen in the world all in a day's work for you" Harry teased, and Hermione sighed, she was glad to see whatever hurt he was carrying from her actions had dissipated.

She rolled her eyes "if you remember we were attacked by Death Eaters straight after and then well, I wasn't entirely convinced everyone would believe me; I didn't believe it, and I was there."

Harry huffed out a laugh "so did he tell you about the tournament?"

"No, though I think he knew, he alluded to seeing me again, but I figured it was just a casual reference, didn't expect to see him marching through the doors of the great hall only a few months later."

"But you were pleased to though right?" Harry asked, and when she didn't answer immediately, he bumped her shoulder.

"Yeess" she begrudgingly admitted, tucking her face further into her scarf to hide her awkwardness.

"Well, I'm glad… if you like him, that is. I don't know how this works because we've never had to do this before. But you should probably know; I'm not going to storm over and ask what his intentions are. Firstly because you can handle yourself, and second he is a lot bigger than me Hermione, like _a lot_ bigger, I don't even know how he made seeker, _he's huge_ " Harry said, making a wide gesture with his arms that made Hermione giggle.

"He is isn't he?" she replied dreamily, and Harry snapped his face to hers looking positively disgusted.

"Stop… just stop that, I'm trying my best to adjust here, and that's not helping" he chastised.

"I'll try… but you have to admit he's very _distracting_ " she laughed out, almost choking on her mirth when Harry shuddered.

He narrowed his eyes at her "you are spending way too much time with Ginny, she's corrupting you, and I don't like it. No wonder he looks so besotted with you if you talk like that."

Hermione sighed "I don't talk like that with him, mainly I'm awkward, totally fumbling and red-cheeked the whole time while he's calm articulate and very present you know."

"Honestly I have no idea what you're talking about, but you are spending the rest of the day with me, and I will nag at you until you start lecturing me to stay safe and study, then I will know all is right in the world."

"Thank you, Harry," she murmured as she snuggled into the side of him.

They regarded the school quietly for a while, and Hermione felt totally at ease.

"So" he began a little while later "am I allowed to tease you about 'spending time' with the most famous Quidditch player in the world?"

"Maybe" she conceded with a laugh "but only if" Hermione bit her lip "If you could maybe teach me to understand it a little bit?"

Harry's eyes widened though whatever he was going to say was cut off by the sound of raised voices coming from the direction of the of the greenhouses. Hermione snapped her head around and saw Headmaster Karkaroff and Professor Moody arguing; it looked like no small disagreement, the men were practically snarling at each other. Though the Headmaster loomed over the older man her Professor showed no signs of being intimidated, in fact quite the opposite. Whatever they were saying wouldn't carry across the distance, they watched the growing confrontation in silence until Moody shunted forward raising his shoulder to collide roughly with Karkaroff's chest and then limped away back towards the castle.

The Durmstrang Headmaster sagged when his combatant left, and Hermione looked at him more closely, the man did not look well, gaunt lines were discernible in his face and had the air in general of a man troubled. He didn't wait around long after Moody had left, after seeming to collect himself he stood up tall and marched off in the direction of the ship.

"What was all that about?" she muttered, and Harry turned to her his expression serious.

"I think Moody was the arresting Auror for Karkaroff" he imparted gravely.

"Oh, that's… I don't really know what that is, _unfortunate_?"

"That's one word for it" Harry scoffed mirthlessly "I don't trust him Hermione" he warned.

She nodded in understanding "I'll be careful" at his disbelieving look she continued "I promise."

* * *

Buoyed by a spring in her step Hermione walked towards the Twins in the corner of the common room they were hiding in. If the scuttled movements they made to remove whatever was on the table in front of them as she approached was any indication they were definitely up to no good.

"Gentleman," she said innocently, and two sets of eyes looked up at her.

"Granger, this is an unexpected…" Fred began, swiftly turning his back to the table to face her, and George followed suit.

"... pleasure, what can we do you for?"

"One signed photograph as requested," Hermione said proudly, pulling the picture out from her robe pocket and handing it over. In truth she had held onto it for a couple of days, she told herself that she hadn't had the chance to give it to the boys, but as she'd had meals next to them for at least twice since she had obtained Viktor's autograph it was a pretty flimsy justification. Which was why it was a good job no one else knew about it.

Fred grinned down at the photo before picking up a book and folding in between the pages for safe keeping.

"Much obliged and in lieu of payment…" he said putting his hands into his own robes and proffering her a small piece of parchment.

"We thought this might make us square" George finished.

Hermione turned the paper over in her hands brow furrowed until she saw the little moving image begin; Viktor and her walking into the ball, she took a few steps forward smiling self-consciously, and he looked down to grin at her.

Fred smirked at her, "nice picture isn't it, I mean _it's not signed_ …"

"… _not like ours,_ but nice all the same. I suppose you could get Viktor to sign it" George pondered.

"But that seems a bit silly" Fred countered.

"Silly?" she questioned looking up from the caught image.

"Yeah," they said in unison.

"Signed pictures are for souvenirs, keepsakes you know? You don't need those when you have _the real thing._ "

"Which it looks like you do Granger… if you want it."

* * *

Viktor swept up into the air, higher and higher until the castle and the ship and all the worries he had seemed far, far away. He was practising his drills on the Quidditch pitch, having obtained special permission to do so while classes were in session, the Durmstrang timetable was different in any case, and this way he would be less likely to attract unwanted attention.

He wondered where she would be right now; he didn't know for sure what class she had, having made a point of actively stopping himself from learning her schedule, though he had been tempted by her planner lying open next to him in the library often. He didn't think it would do him any good to become obsessive.

Mikhail and Filip had both commented, in their unique ways, that they liked Hermione, he suspected Mikhail's version of 'getting to know her' may have been slightly aggressive, but she hadn't complained; he suspected she was well versed in the protective instinct of friends. His first conversation with Ginny had hardly been easy going after all, and he strongly suspected Luna could just straight up read his mind which was becoming more of a threat with every passing week. It was important to him that their friends approved of them, and each other. Not that they're say so was the be all and end all, but if he got his way they would hopefully see a lot more of each other, thus being able to stand being in the same room would make life easier for all.

Viktor wished he could see Hermione a good deal more now than he was currently able. The Ball had very much confirmed to him that he was falling for her, _how could he not be?_ Hermione was everything he had ever wanted, and she had so much more about her that he had ever considered. She was kind, warm, funny, smart, sharp, bossy, but more than a list of _desirable attributes_ he got this sense from her, a feeling of real kinship. Their time together never felt forced to him, awkward certainly, at times, but a real awkward, a nervous awkward, the awkward they would one day be able to laugh at, he hoped. Her actions at the dance had done a lot to dissuade any doubts he had over her feelings. He was learning that she was open with her heart, he just had to look a bit harder to see the signs.

He had reflected back on their first kiss far more times than was probably becoming but he couldn't help it. He had kissed before, many times, but it had never been anything like that. Something about the way she reacted to him and the trust she apparently placed in him was exhilarating. She had remarked over the course of the evening that he always seemed so relaxed, he had been somewhat surprised that she hadn't realised that was down to the effect she had on him, he certainly didn't usually feel like that around people he had known for a few months.

People had called him surly or quiet since he was little and since his burgeoning career had taken off his demeanour had invariably been interpreted as a sign of him being either arrogant or socially awkward, sometimes they cited a mixture of both. He had never tried especially hard to dispute those claims as the image he had gained, without wilful cultivation, suited him, people who didn't know him thinking him rude or stupid was a small price to endure if it ensured he was left alone. But Hermione never questioned his quiet patches or bemoaned his lack of flowery address; she seemed to like his plain speaking as much as he liked the mix of her fidgeting responses to his teasing and her passionate defiance when properly proded.

While his reputation and fame had placed a bubble of revetment around him he had noticed in the course of his life that it did not do the same for girls he was associated with. Already he had seen the hostile glanced sent in her direction; he wanted to save Hermione from cruel exposure as much as possible. He had made the decision to go into a profession that had the downside of making him, to an extent, public property, but she hadn't, though he suspected that someone like her would end up fairly notable herself before long.

He had tried to keep his distance a little more than was strictly necessary, principally because of his workload, but also to avoid the gossips of the world but now in his eyes the means no longer justified the reward, it just wasn't possible to stay away from her anymore.

* * *

By the middle of February Viktor felt the oppressive burden of expectation that had been hanging over his head diminish. He had pushed himself harder than ever and finally felt fully prepared, at least for what was to come over the next couple of months. The final task was still on the horizon but as he had no idea what that would entail there was little point adding it to his list of worries yet. He had worked out his approach to the second task and was on top of all of his school work, more importantly, he had finally come to some decision on his plans for next year. All in all, he had built up enough slack to allow him to enjoy today.

He sat in the great hall in his usual seat, a spot which gave him an excellent vantage point over the Gryffindor table. He looked over at Hermione who was sat picking at a meagre breakfast with apparent disinterest, she wasn't talking, but he could see Ginny murmuring in an almost constant stream of chat into her ear. Hermione nodded or quirked her lips into a gentle smile every now and again but otherwise didn't take her eyes of her plate; that was until the owls arrived.

What seemed like hundreds of birds flew into the vast space, so tightly packed together they almost appeared like an undulating, noisy cloud in the air them, some of them weighed down with large looking packages. To the Durmstrang boys Valentine's day like this was a strange experience, coming from a single sex school the present giving on February 14th was sparse, and even those that were exchanged were done so privately. A quick glance towards the Headmaster revealed how disgusting he found the display, he would never have permitted such antics were he completely in charge.

Viktor's eyes were torn away from Hermione for a moment when he realised, with grim horror, how many of the invading owls were depositing pink-hued letters and boxes next to his place setting. He couldn't help the colour that crept across his cheeks as he could feel the attention of all of those around him being drawn in his direction. Mikhail aimed his wand at the growing pile and with a soft mutter it was gone, banishing it all back to their dorm no doubt. He nodded once in thanks and Mikhail rolled his eyes at him, his feelings on 'fangirls' similar to their Headmasters for Valentine's Day itself.

Thankful as he was for his friend's quick thinking, it seemed it wasn't quite fast enough. A quick glance at Hermione revealed her face was stuck looking at the spot just next to him, her porridge caked spoon hovering in the air. He shifted in his seat, and he could see her mouth had slightly unhinged as she regarded the now-empty patch of the table and he felt himself grow uncomfortable. _He should have been prepared for this_. Getting to know her he had picked up on a little undercurrent of insecurity in some of her actions, the fangirls that followed him around being a particular sore spot. He would have to work harder to make her understand how insignificant he found it all in comparison to her attention.

It took Viktor awhile to catch her eye and when he did she smiled, but it didn't quite reach her eyes. She was distracted from his penetrating gaze by a relatively persistent owl who was nudging at her expectantly, apparently keen to deposit his load. Viktor watched with rapt attention as she raised her eyebrows at the imposing bird before stealing a bit of bacon from Ron's plate, while he was looking in the opposite direction, proffering it to the insistent creature.

Once her attention had been secured, he began sorting out his food, after a brief period of laughing at Filip who had forgone traditional breakfast to start working his way through the chocolates he had been sent. Viktor suppressed a smirk as his friend spun on his seat shooting a wink at the blushing Hufflepuff sender who erupted into giggles at his overt attention. Viktor didn't need to watch Hermione open the package; he knew what was in it. In the brief times he had free over the last month he had been planning his gift, he may not have been able to give her all she wanted right then, but if she was going to have a Valentine it was going to be him.

The gift he had eventually settled on, was a nicely wrapped, book, at least at first appearance, when she opened it she would find that the pages had been hollowed out to allow for three rows of delicate chocolates to be placed within. He wanted to make a point, along with his present, he knew lots of people brought her things to read, and he understood that Hermione loved books, but he suspected that lack of originality would sometimes disappoint her. He had picked up on her toughness at times if he casually asked if she was off to the library, he certainly didn't think academics was all she was. He loved his broom, but it didn't mean he wanted maintenance kit every year. He wanted to stand out, especially if he wasn't the only sender, and to show that he had put some thought into it.

Inside the hollowed out cavity the orate truffles were each embossed with an individual rune, when read together and decoded they would convey a message asking her to meet him at three that day. Most of the castle would be in Hogsmeade by then, and it should afford them a few moments of much-needed privacy, while he would happily go wherever she desired he would prefer _never_ to step into that tea room again!

He looked up to check on her just as she picked up the slim slip of parchment he had included with his name and a swiftly written assurance that the mangled 'book' was actually a transfigured box. Viktor was going to send the presented anonymously, as per tradition, but, after a moment's reflection he wasn't sure Hermione would trust an unsigned gift was from him, and as he wouldn't have the chance to speak to her until the afternoon the assurances seemed wise.

She smiled beatifically at him, this time the expression reached her eyes, not just softening them, not just reaching them but causing them to glow. With that one simple change in expression, the four rounds of chocolates he had to go through to get the runes to look perfect were totally worth it.

* * *

Viktor was waiting out in front of the black lake as Hermione scampered out of the castle, as soon as she saw him she sped up her steps, burrowing down into her thick jumper as she paced across the frosty grass. As she got closer he felt himself sag a fraction, like a breath he wasn't aware he had been holding was released. It wasn't as if he hadn't expected her to show up, she was too _polite_ for that, just, he had never had to buy anyone what could be considered a romantic gift before, while it was fairly evident that he was the one most comfortable with their present situation it didn't mean this wasn't new to him too.

He kissed her on the cheek as she got close and she thanked him for the chocolates, "and the puzzle" she said with a little grin that he couldn't help returning. They walked off at a comfortable strolling pace, drifting in silent assent to one of the most secluded paths that took them around the lake.

He waited until the castle, and its potentially interrupting occupants were a little while away before he began on the topic he wanted to raise.

"I wanted to talk to you about... something" he began as he stepped over slightly as the path narrowed, forcing them to walk closer.

"Oh?" she inquired lightly, looking up at his face. Her wide brown eyes were warm.

"I think I ready to make decision about team for next year, but would like to talk about it, with you, first. You maybe think of something I missed. I trust your judgement."

"That's… that's very flattering Viktor, please" she made a continuing gesture, "go on."

"I received many offers, maybe few more than I deserve but narrowed it down to three, I have to give final decision by next week because transfer window closes and I need to sign contracts and things" he explained and looked back at her.

She nodded, her expression serious, "and you are feeling indecisive?"

"I thought so, at first, but I think I always knew decision I wanted to make, just not sure am making it for right reasons," he said pushing his hands inside the pockets in his trousers.

"Well I can't confess to know much about your sport but I… well I think I'm getting to know _you_ and if you explain it maybe I can help" she said brightly, and he smiled at her earnest enthusiasm.

"First offer was from Montpellier Minotaurs, they are one of top teams in France and have reputation for excellence, second offer was from Kassel Kirschen…" she smirked at him and he paused to look at her questioningly.

"What you like red?" she muttered.

Viktor rolled his eyes "they are one of best teams with of branding and sponsors, would be good move to start building network for once I finish my professional career."

"Ok got it, and the third offer your considering?"

"Vratsa Vultures," he said wistfully "they are best team in Bulgarian Championship, and I have supported them since I was two" he imparted with a small laugh remembering the tiny kit his Mother kept that had been his first ever Quidditch shirt.

Hermione tilted her head at him "you clearly have a preference for the last one so what is the hesitation?"

Viktor wondered if he would ever be able to get anything past this witch. "Bulgarian _national_ team is strong but Championship in country is not as strong as is in England, France, Germany or Sweden. It is good team, great team, but is not _best_ team, there are people that will say I making easy choice" he sighed. The topic had been long discussed between himself and his manager.

"What else?" Hermione pressed.

"My Mother wants me to stay in Bulgaria, stay with local team so I am not too far, I don't know if I am leaning towards that choice to make her happy. I want to be able to stand on my own feet also" he admitted quietly.

Hermione continued walking ruminating over what he had said until they reached a bench and they sat down "Viktor, I think with these kinds of decisions you need to follow your heart. There might be more _prestige_ in joining a French or German team but do you need the exposure they offer for your career to be a success? You're already being heralded as _the best seeker in the world_ , and you're not even a full time professional yet. You have told me before that you vastly prefer playing national Quidditch as you get to play in your countries colours, if you go to Vastra you will be doing that every day. Who knows, you joining their Championship might even accelerate them into becoming a more prominent league."

He snorted, and she smiled softly at him.

"As for your Mother, I don't think you coming to the same decision is the same as agreeing with her reasoning. You could still take steps to gain your independence, get your own place closer to the grounds or something."

He stopped to look at her; her voice had calmed him, hearing her echo back almost exactly some of his more rational sentiments made him feel more reassured. He held up his arm in silent invitation, and she averted her eyes but snuggled in next to him, leaning her head against his chest as he wrapped the arm back around her.

"Thank you, Hermione, I may have to keep you around, you are good at these things" his teasing slightly masking earnest desire.

"I am glad to be of service, and I would not be… _totally opposed_ to being kept on retainer, should you need to speak to me in the future."

He smiled at her brave words, braver now he wasn't facing her totally, he had more to say but not today, he had planned to speak to her after the second task, once he had that out of the way he could work on what they were going to do between them.

The silence between them was comforting, and he laid his head back to rest on a tree behind the bench until her soft voice made him sit up.

"Viktor, how did you get that nick in your eyebrow?"

"What makes you ask?" he inquired perplexed by the question.

She shrugged the movement sluggish as she was held against him, "I noticed it a long time ago, in your pictures at the world cup actually, I wondered if it was a Quidditch injury."

He smiled against the top of her hair, "no, got it when I was little, chasing my dog, or she chasing me, I can't remember, but I fell, and that is how I cut eyebrow. But don't tell anyone, normally I make it sound more dramatic."

She laughed, the movement making her hair tickle his nose "maybe the sport isn't as dangerous as I thought."

"Does this mean I might convince you to come to few games?" he asked as he moved a hand to cup her cheek and leant forward to gently kiss her chilled nose.

"Oh I suppose so" she breathily replied as he moved his head towards her.

He trailed his thumb along her face and swept it gently across her plump bottom lip, pulling her teeth out of its soft surface.

"Cheer me on?" he pressed as her eyes dilated and he could feel the heat of her skin, her short, shallow breaths, warming the air between them.

"I'm sure I could…" she faltered, her eyes locking with his.

He pushed some hair behind her ear, "wear my shirt?" he questioned, the words spoken almost against her lips

"I…"

He pressed down with his lips onto hers, muffling whatever she had intended to say. When she smiled against his mouth he returned it before slowly nudging her lips, gently signalling to her that he wanted to deepen the kiss. When her mouth parted he slowly moved against her, harder, swiping his tongue along one side of hers briefly before he withdrew, laying a steady stream of gentle kisses against her mouth. He shifted his seat again pulling away as he registered her shiver. He swiftly unbuttoned his coat and pulled her into his chest so he could wrap one side of it around her, shielding her from the chill.

"Happy Valentines Hermione."

* * *

Viktor stood in the middle of the sparse dorm room in his swimming trunks and performed the transfiguration for the third time only to get the same stunned silence in response, huffing slightly, as much as he was able with gills he cancelled the effect.

"What?!" he demanded impatiently, "I think this will work, it's far more likely to get a good mark than the bubble head charm."

Mikhail seemed to snap out of his trance first "maybe, but don't you think they will mark you down for only managing a partial transformation?"

"I could do the whole thing if I wanted" Viktor protested, "but how would I retrieve what I needed to with fins?"

"I mean" Filip interjected "whatever the judges decide notwithstanding, I think it looks really scary… Like a reverse merman, but more... deadly" he said with reverence.

"Really?"

Filip's face lit into a smile "it's _so_ cool."

"I know right," Viktor said relieved at the now smiling faces of his friends.

Mikhail laughed "well let's just hope that what ever object you have to get isn't capable of sentient thought, otherwise you will scare the crap out of it."

* * *

 _A/N huge thanks to the wonderful people of Tumblr for contributing some, much needed, Quidditch team name help - Montpellier Minotaurs - was a suggestion from the wonderful Heeley and Kassel Kirschen - from the amazing Nautical Paramour. I got LOADS of amazing recommendations, many of those I have noted and will probably pop up in Parts Two and Three._


	12. Part One - Chapter Eleven

_Hello lovely readers, once again thank you for all of your feedback, this chapter has proved more difficult than I would like and I've had to split in into two because of how long it got. Without further ado, the second task begins…_

* * *

Viktor shuffled his bare feet, his exposed toes curling against the rough surface of the wooden jetty. The sturdy structure had been erected hastily so as not to arouse suspicion, the platform hovering over the deceptively still waters of the Black Lake. Using a warm up routine he had perfected for Quidditch matches Viktor rotated bursts of jogging on the spot with various arm and shoulder exercises, hopeful that the movement would warm him up as well as distracting him from the tension settling into his neck. February in Scotland wasn't an ideal time to be standing around in a vest and shorts, but he was sure potential frostbite would be the least of his worries today. Viktor eyed the other champions with a casual air; his three competitors were lined up, staring over the pier, arranged equidistantly from each other. Fleur, who was the furthermost away, looked anxious and uncomfortable, Cedric seemed to be mumbling something under his breath and Potter, who had only just made it in time, looked as if he was attempting to force something down his…. _Was that Gillyweed?_ That was… that was pretty fucking clever actually.

Time for further introspection was cut short as a tannoy sounded and Viktor's attention turned to the bank of seats that had been erected for spectators. The booming voice of Ludo Bagman echoed around the grounds and Viktor spotted ripples form on the surface of the lake from the vibration, for the first time that morning he was impatient to sink into its depths. He had never liked Ludo; they had run into each other on a fair few occasions. The overbearing former player represented the very worst type of people in his profession, at least to Viktor's reckoning. Not only did Ludo seem to spend his life recounting tales of his 'glory days', he traded off his 'fame' to get what he wanted from the people around him. Bagman, and people like him, served as a cautionary tale to Viktor and was one of the reasons he had _eventually_ agreed with his father to pursue a mastery after school was finished.

"Well, what a day we have in store for us" Bagman's voice boomed "our champions are now, as I speak, in position at the edge of the Black Lake. The tension in the air is palpable. It reminds me of the time I was in the starting lineup for the Wasps, when we were defending the league title, batted for my life that day… anyway back to our champions, if they have deciphered their clue correctly" he said with a throaty chuckle "they will already know that they have only _one hour_ to retrieve something dear to them, this _item_ has already been taken…"

Viktor shook out his shoulders and ran over the spell he had practised for the hundredth time in an attempt to block out the _unnecessary_ noise. He was as prepared as he could be, he reminded himself, though he couldn't work out _what_ they had taken. He had anticipated it would be something from his room, he had nothing stored anywhere else, but nothing seemed to be missing that morning. Viktor wouldn't have thought anything of it _if_ they had said they would take something innocuous, but the clue had expressly stated the item would be 'what you'll sorely miss'. Surely if that were the case, it would be something he would have noticed was missing.

"... I can now reveal, _for the first time_ , that deep, in the icy waters of the lake, _under guard_ in the merpeople village we have _hostages_ for our champions to collect…"

The excitement in the man's tone made Viktor feel sick to his stomach, and he spun around to face the stands, running his eyes through the students at speed. His impatient gaze immediately went to the clot of red on one side, feeling immeasurable relief when he saw Filip and Mikhail were both there, looking pensive but otherwise unharmed... _but if they were there,_ _who on earth?_

"... for Viktor Krum… _Hermione Granger!_ "

Viktor's body reacted almost before he had processed the words, he turned on his heel to face the other end of the stands. He located Ginny and Luna quickly, and he felt his heart began to race as he fully comprehended her absence. No unruly curls dancing in the breeze, no reassuring smile or subtle gesture of support, when even Luna's usually impassive face reflected fear, he turned away. He felt anger claw at him, working its way up from his chest and clawing at his throat, and something else, _something dark_. It prickled at the surface of his awareness, and he made a point to scowl at his Headmaster as well as hers before he shut off his thoughts in preparation for the clacson. He knew he would have to channel the rage he was feeling to finding her quicker.

As he flicked a final look down the row of competitors Viktor locked eyes with a terrified looking Harry; he nodded briefly at him. There was a lot conveyed at that moment, not least that he understood Harry's concern and that he would make sure she would be safe.

Whereas before Viktor had forced himself to move with the intention of keeping himself warm, he found that now as the final moments slipped away he know longer needed them. Peering over at the surface of the water he almost vibrated with energy, the roaring in the crowds and the continuing rumble of the commentary was nothing, everything was focused on the surface of the water.

When the signal was finally given Viktor wasted no time between transfiguring himself and diving into the water, he had planned to make slow movements so that those on the bank would be able to see what his solution was, but that had been _before._ He was no longer so worried about what the judges would think of his creativity, his only concern was locating Hermione, and getting her out of the water within the time limit. Viktor broke the surface of the water and quickly focused on achieving a decent descent, fully submerging himself in the icy depths. As he swam down, it wasn't long before he felt like he was drowning. As he propelled forward, he had to fight against the voice in his mind _screaming_ that he needed to return to the surface, that he needed oxygen. Instead, Viktor _forced himself_ to rely on his transfigured gills. It was unnatural, awkward and he had to chase away panic, but a few steady breaths in and out of the new holes in his throat and he relaxed enough to once again pick up speed.

As Viktor swam deeper and deeper, the light filtering from the surface diminished until the water surrounding him was as black as the lake's name suggested. Without his spelled shark eyes he would have barely been able to see a few feet in front of his face. He felt directionless for a while before he began navigating himself by following a school of dim coloured fish, their scales causing a slight glimmer as they glided through the water. Viktor was _so focused_ on tracking the movement of the glistening school that he didn't notice how he was heading into an area where seaweed climbed taller and spread thicker. He missed the shadows darting above him, creeping below him until he was too late. A sudden disturbance caught his attention and all at once Grindylows seemed to come from all directions. Their small bodies bounced off him as he attempted to accelerate past them, the ones at the front of the attack gnashed their sickly green teeth at him viciously as their spindly fingers tried to gain purchase. Knowing he was done for if he let that happen, Viktor flailed mercilessly, whipping around and biting at the ones closest to him before they began to beat a retreat. Not waiting to see how long term their urge to flee lasted Viktor swam as fast as he could, out of the dank patch of the lake and began the hunt afresh.

Viktor swam around aimlessly, growing increasingly despondent until he picked up on the faint mumblings of a familiar noise. A gentle, haunting hum that stood out in the almost calm atmosphere. As Viktor swam closer, he registered the sound as the mermaid song, similar to the ballad that had been trapped inside the golden egg. It had never occurred to him before how alluring the noise was as it drew him in, reminding him of stories his mother had told him as a child about sirens. Viktor kicked harder to swim up over a large ridge on the lake floor and then he saw it.

'Village' seemed an inadequate word for the settlement the merpeople had built, it stretched as far as the eye could see; roads and pathways teeming with activity. Variously sized dwellings were flanked with glistening shells that reflected the limited light like mosaic glass. The constant singing almost seemed to reverberate from the spindling towers, magnifying the eerie echo. Viktor was blown away by the civilisation under the water. He thought he might understand now what he had heard Hermione ranting to people about, how she lamented the arrogance of magical folk, how she had argued that 'creatures weren't any less intelligent, they just lived in worlds that humans couldn't possibly understand'.

As Viktor recovered from his shock, he approached the village only to have two of the merfolk immediately dive in front of him, blocking his way with vicious looking spears. He tried to control the urge to bite them as he had the Grindylows, the still rational part of his brain muttering that these dangers would be less easily swayed. Viktor was unused to violent reactions, as a general rule, but as he was sure he was approaching the end of the time limit and had no idea how that would affect Hermione, his anxiety was causing his impatience to skyrocket. The faces of the merfolk were austere and unemotional, their eyes empty black pools set into a shimmering green skin. Moments passed, and Viktor had a distinct feeling he was being judged before, at length, the spears were retracted, and he was urged to go forth.

The manic kicking of his legs stilled when he reached a clearing in the very centre of the village, three gentle trails of bubbles streamed upwards, and Viktor's beady eyes tracked them lower, hoping to find one belonged to _her_. There, at the furthest point was Hermione, secured around the waist with a thick rope, hair dispersed in the water around her, her body rigid and lifeless. With her eyelids closed it looked as if she was sleeping, a moment that seemed uncomfortably intimate for him to witness despite the kisses he had shared with her, not to mention the times he had imagined her at rest, though he had certainly kept those thoughts to himself.

Viktor darted towards her, relieved beyond belief that he had decided to leave himself the options of fingers when he got close enough to begin furiously wrestling with the rope. A few unfruitful minutes later and he made a grunt of frustration, the sound coming out of his mouth like a twisted snarl followed by a gnashing of teeth, _teeth!_ He plunged down below and bit at the thick twining, but his transfigured teeth weren't sharp enough, he panicked conscious that this was the very worst time to discover that the spell had not been as well executed as he had hoped. A sharp whack on the shoulder distracted him, and Viktor whipped around to find a startled looking Potter who, upon seeing his face up close, swam back quickly, seemingly wanting to keep a safe distance as he proffered a jagged rock. Viktor sighed in gratitude, ignoring how aggressive the sound that came out was. Taking the rock, he cut through the ropes holding Hermione and immediately headed for the surface without looking back. He pulled her limp form against his body, holding her close as he propelled upwards. He had no idea what charm has been placed on her; she could breathe but there was no motion to her body, she was a dead weight, which even given how small she took some manoeuvring.

After what felt like a lifetime they broke the surface of the water and whatever spell has been placed on Hermione dissipated as soon as they hit they cool air. She began gasping for breath, making strained sounds as she dragged in huge lungfuls of air and Viktor automatically pulled her away from his chest so he could check her over. It was only when she began screaming, flailing her arms around violently, that he remembered the Transfiguration, with a start he cancelled it, shaking his head involuntarily as the sides of his neck burned where the flesh knitted back together. Hermione had her eyes shut by this point and had missed his transformation, still flapping and splashing, coughing as she swallowed water in her panic.

"It is me. It is Viktor… you are safe," he spoke urgently, firming his grip on her shoulders to try and snap her out of it.

Her eyes widened, and she stopped flapping. Which only served to highlight how much she was shaking. Feeling anger come to the surface of his thoughts again Viktor grasped Hermione gently, manoeuvring her closer to the wooden platform before pulling her up out of the water and passing her to Mikhail and Filip who were waiting at the edge of the jetty with an anxious looking Luna. Once she was securely up Viktor accepted Mikhail's hand just as a student was running over with towels, he took both of those that were extended and wrapped them around her.

"You ok?" he asked lowly, running the edge of one of the soft towels over her face to absorb the water clinging around her nose.

Hermione nodded, her teeth chattering, and he sighed, her weak affirmation did nothing to soothe him, she hadn't spoken since they had gotten out of the water. Not giving a flying fuck about anyone around them Viktor pulled her trembling form in for a hug, aggressively rubbing his hands over her shivering arms, trying to get some warmth into her body. He clenched his teeth, though whether because of the chill biting at his skin or the rage simmering underneath he wasn't sure. As he stood next to her he realised she had been sent down in full robes; that had absorbed a lot more water than his gym kit; they weighed her down, and she would need a lot more than a couple of towels if she were going to avoid getting sick.

"Need to get you out of here, get you dry," he said into her ear.

"There is tent at the back," Mikhail called suddenly, it was only when Viktor registered his friend's voice that he realised he had dragged Hermione slightly away from everyone else and had his arms around her protectively. Mikhail was watching his face warily until their eyes met and he mouthed 'calm down' at him.

"They didn't ask either of you?" he asked bluntly and Filip took a step forward to shake his head.

"Ridiculous" he muttered. Irritated, he readjusted himself and made to gather Hermione to take her to the tent.

"You need to stay here, for announcement," Filip murmured, and Viktor paused in his actions, wishing that he didn't agree.

"Fine" he gritted out, huffing as he turned back around to the shivering girl in front of him. Before he could say anything else, Luna had rushed forward pushing one of her small arms under Hermione's.

"Come on," she commanded softly before looking up at him "I will take care of her" she assured, and he nodded, trusting her completely but wishing he could go in her place. His friends stood next to him, silently, as he stoically watched the two girls move away. Mikhail did not attempt to speak until they were full out of view, Viktor realised that this was probably the angriest they had had ever seen him.

"Viktor, you need to get a hold of yourself" he chastised.

"Me?" he replied narrowing his eyes, his head reeling back incredulous. "She was at the bottom of a lake. In February. She looked like she was dead. She… She…" he closed his eyes and clenched his fists. "Her parents are muggles, do you imagine anyone checked with anyone that this was ok?"

"Viktor…" Filip tried but he was too riled up, "because of me, she was down there because of me" he protested almost snarling.

"Enough" Mikhail snapped and placed his hands on his shoulders shaking him slightly. "Get through the presentation; we will talk after."

* * *

Only after Hermione disappeared did Viktor notice that Potter still wasn't back. He didn't have long to ruminate on his absence as he just finally accepted a towel for himself when suddenly the surface of the water gave way again and Potter as well as Weasley and a little girl hit the air with a sympathy of gasps. If Fleur's hysterical reaction was any indication, it must have been her sister. Viktor and his friends stepped forward to help pull them onto the jetty and Potter began trying to speak, hunched over while Filip banged him on the back, Viktor cut him off.

"Hermione, she is okay" he reassured with a confidence he didn't feel, and he saw the boy's shoulders sag.

The situation had only just calmed when the Fleur came running over grasping Potter and spinning him with such force he almost left the ground. Her words were lost to him, even if he had of spoken perfect French Viktor doubted he would have been able to decipher the exact wording of her grateful babble, though her sentiments were easy enough to understand. When she looked as if she intended to manhandle the boy for the third time, Viktor intervened. Gillyweed was notorious for nausea after usage; Potter looked embarrassed by the situation enough without throwing up all over the Veela. He laid a hand on Fleur's shoulder pulling her back gently.

"Okay?" he asked softly, not wanting their conversation to be heard by those around them that were friends to neither of them. He understood how Fleur had it as a woman and as a Veela competing, it was the same for the women he played with on teams; she would not want to admit anything she viewed as a _weakness_ in front of unfriendly ears.

She nodded looking wistfully across the platform back at her little sister; the little girl was holding hands with a tall, beautiful witch, towels wrapped around her tiny form, beam on her face like she had just had the best adventure.

"Gabi, she is too little for this. When I couldn't get down there I panicked" she said slowly, turning back round to face him.

"What happened?" he asked, Filip had already mentioned that Fleur was an early retirement but he didn't know why.

"The Grindylows, they got a grip on me, and I couldn't fight them off" she replied shaking her head, now that he was looking Viktor could see all the tiny claw marks all over her skin.

"You did well to get away" he assured, and she scoffed "mean it he continued, you did right thing, if you had carried on fighting them, could have been dragged down, who knows if they were in on it like the merpeople were. Could have been ages till someone came to look for you, then it would be too late."

"But…" she tried again, and Viktor rolled his eyes, something he was sure he was picking up from Hermione, drawing a reluctant laugh from her lips.

"I see you had no trouble rescuing your _Princess_ ," she said with an arched eyebrow and Viktor, in spite of the chill in the air, felt a hint of warmth across his cheeks.

The unwelcome voice of Ludo Bagman once again echoed around the grounds and Viktor listened to the judge's decisions. As he had suspected while under the surface he had arrived back outside of the time limit, but as it turned out only seconds after Cedric. He should have been given second place, which would have given him a fair chance in the final round but, to the jubilation of the home crowd, the judges decided to make a special dispensation for Potter's show of bravery, meaning he got bumped down to third overall. Viktor couldn't find him within himself to be upset if it weren't for the boy's actions he might still be at the bottom of the lake attempting to gnaw his way through the rope with blunt teeth.

The post task analysis continued, and Viktor tried to pay attention, almost entirely managing not to fidget. For the first time since the tournament had begun he didn't care. He hated everything about this task and felt no triumph or loss at his place. It was all he could do to even pay the smallest amount of attention. Usually, he would have been worried about the absence of his competitive nature, but he knew all too well why he was despondent. He signed up to this, knowing the dangers, and knowing what he would have to face, She hadn't. Sure, he had no doubt that Hermione had been _asked_ to take part, Viktor doubted even _this_ tournament would go so far as to take her against her will, but that wasn't the point, she should never have been selected in the first place. Her being announced as his hostage and his behaviour afterwards would mean that hey would face more speculation than ever.

In the end, as the cumulative scores were read out he found he had second place, though as the score for first was tied it was third. Viktor intended to shelve his self-chastisement until a time when his irritation had died down but as he saw his Headmaster approaching, scowl fixed in place he knew they would have to do this now. As Karkaroff moved with languid ease amongst the people milling around Viktor attempted to ball up all of the emotions he was feeling. It would do him no good to mouth off at the Headmaster, good as it might feel, the effects would be temporary. More than anything he understood the importance of deference and respect, even if he didn't always feel like people deserved to receive it.

"Third place today and overall Viktor, despite the travesty of the fourth champion I am sure you will agree that is not good enough" Karkaroff began, his usual calm veneer doing little to hide the fire in his eyes or the steely edge to his clipped tones. Viktor said nothing, the Headmaster apparently needed to vent and experience had taught him that it was best to let him get everything out of his system.

"The transfiguration was a _good_ plan" he conceded with some reluctance "but if the Diggory boy was able to get back within the time limit then so should you have been. We have not had mandatory swimming on the curriculum for fifty years for you to be out done. You have a lot to make up for in the final task Viktor; failure is not an option."

Viktor nodded solemnly but before the Headmaster could walk away he voiced his issue "did you know?" he asked quietly.

"About what?" Karkaroff asked impatiently, but the glimmer in his eyes let Viktor know he knew _exactly_ what he had asked about.

"Mikhail or Filip would have done it, gladly," he said, biting back the words and tone he so desperately wanted to use.

Karkaroff was unmoved, "surely this has done you a favour Viktor, you wanted the girl, now it's so very public I am sure you can make your move to secure her" he finished smugly and walked off, quickly disappearing from view.


	13. Part One - Chapter Twelve

_A/N thank you for your lovely feedback on the last chapter, the second half of the second task now, and it's time for a much-needed talk._

* * *

Finally free from the pomp and circumstance of the tournament Viktor marched to the bank of the lake, to the medical tent that had been set up, ostensibly to get himself checked out, not that he cared about himself. He had been surviving in harsh conditions since childhood, a morning spent in freezing waters was unlikely to have any long-term effect on him. He pushed back the canvas door in time to see steam billowing from Hermione's ears; her face screwed up from the sensation caused by what must have been a fairly sizeable dose of Pepperup. When he went to stand by her bedside, he was swiftly cut off in his tracks by a determined Mediwitch who bustled him onto a bed on the other side of the tent. Before he could begin the litany of protests on the very tip of his tongue, the matronly witch began fussing over him, clucking and tutting like a mother hen as she took his temperature and spell dried his clothes. He was raised too well to scowl at her, but he thought about it.

* * *

When he finally evaded the interfering witch's clutches he strode over to sit on the end of the cot they had placed Hermione on. Viktor had always planned to talk to her, _properly_ , after the task was finished. Now, with all the adrenaline and the unchanneled anger coursing about his body that plan suddenly felt imperative, the need to have a moment alone with her almost overwhelming, like he would burst if he didn't get it all off his chest.

Though it wasn't just his emotions making him impatient, there was another reason for urgency, one that though he wanted to address he was loathed to let it take the sheen off his feelings. The attention they had skillfully avoided following the ball was likely inescapable now. Viktor hoped being under the magnifying glass would be easier to bare if they were both honest with each other, before being subjected to a barrage of questions from the masses.

He looked over at Hermione, what he could see of her that wasn't obscured by blankets, and felt relieved to see her at least drier. She looked a little paler than normal, and despite the Pepperup, he had seen the aftereffects of she didn't seem to be able to stop sneezing. She smiled at him when he sat down, somewhat weakly, a crooked little smile that quirked from one side of her mouth, nothing like her usual full beam. Even that was enough to diffuse some of his tension, as angry as he was he could feel it fading, leaking out of his limbs and into the ground. _She was okay_.

His finally being able to calm down didn't make him any less twitchy. As Hermione made to sit herself up, he reached forward, gripping her waist and moving her, propping her pillows so she could have more support. He saw a flash of irritation cross her features, but she sighed and seemed to let it go, he was glad of it; he knew he was fusing, but he _needed_ to do something, needed to feel like he was of some use to her.

When she coughed a little, the sound wet and nasally he sped off to get her a drink and when he returned she finally rolled her eyes at him, "I'm okay Viktor" she groused, he looked into her irked face and sighed. That she was back to her bossy self should have settled him, but he still felt the weight of the day on his shoulders.

"I…. being around me has give you trouble," he said sagging, once he had let one of the things that was bothering him out he felt like he could finally settle.

He expected some admonishment but instead she laughed, "I'm friends with Harry Potter" she replied with a wave of her hand at her friend, who was propped up on another bed having some paste applied to his throat where his gills had been. "This sort of thing becomes normal."

"Well, should not be" he whispered petulantly and Hermione reached forward to place her hand in his, squeezing gently until he looked back up, and she regarded him with a small smile.

"The shark was a bit of a surprise; I'm sorry for screaming… that was really embarrassing" a blush overcame her cheeks and he, for once, decided against teasing her.

Viktor smiled "It is okay, was worried that I frightened you," he said honestly, her reaction had been terrifying. He never wanted to scare her, not in anyway.

"It was just for a moment" she reassured as he sat back down, their fingers still entwined "as soon as I knew it was _you_ I felt… safe" she admitted in a small voice and Viktor idly traced circles over the back of her palm. Despite her being dry you could tell from her skin that she had recently been wet, it felt damp to the touch, like she had been in a long bath not long before, at least she felt warmer now. They both fell quiet after Hermione's words, Viktor turning them over in his mind. If he had achieved nothing else with her, he felt a sense of extreme pride that she felt secure with him. He wanted nothing else, _almost nothing else_.

Hermione coughed again and looked up, meeting his eyes more cautiously this time "you did so well" she said, clearly wanting to change the subject, Viktor wanted to continue talking about her feelings surrounding him but knew this was not the environment. Instead, he launched into a discussion on the task, a subject that had been taboo between them for weeks. When he told her all about the merpeople civilisation, her eyes became wide as saucers, in a way that he found breathtakingly endearing. She leant forward as he continued his description, gasping when he spoke of the Grindylow attack, he lost his place as her fingers, dainty but firm, traced lines over his exposed arms, turning his limbs as if looking for evidence. It was his turn to reassure her that he was fine, though he did so with no irritation, none whatsoever. When he finished telling her about the task the discussion moved to all the things he had tried to maintain the time under water. He found it so liberating to finally be able to discuss it with Hermione, to see her interest in the theory, to hear all of her excited questions. He tried his best not to think of the future, most of the time, but he couldn't help imagining sending her letters, detailing the latest step in his mastery work and anxiously awaiting her impassioned replies.

They were eventually interrupted when Cedric walked past them, pausing in his steps the older Hogwart's champion pulled a dried out piece of seaweed that had become tangled from Hermione's hair, despite how closely they were now sitting Viktor hadn't noticed it.

"Saving this for later Granger," Diggory said with a wide grin, twisting the leaf in his fingers.

Hermione narrowed her eyes dangerously, and Viktor sat back with his arms crossed over his chest, not bothering to hide his delight at the warning signal she displayed, he did so enjoy her spark, especially when it was aimed at him, but he wasn't fussy. She opened her mouth to make a comment, the expression on her face indicated it would be seething but as she did so her nose twitched and whatever retort she was preparing was lost in a flurry of sneezes that triggered a coughing fit. Viktor got up swiftly, moving to stand at her side and rubbed her back until the tremors stopped, this time she didn't protest his holding a glass to her lips.

"Sorry Granger" Cedric said as the coughing subsided, his eyes softening, "truce until your better?"

Hermione nodded defeatedly as she gulped down the rest of the water, Viktor continued his attentions while privately thinking there was a lot of wisdom behind Cedric's _affable visage_ as he sloped off to sit with Cho in a far corner of the tent. It wasn't long after Hermione had got resettled that Potter reappeared, apparently having been given his marching orders from the medical team and having managed to extract himself from the appreciative clutches of the Delacour family.

"Well done Potter," Viktor said, stepping forward to shake the younger boys hand. Potter looked uncomfortable, but Hermione beamed at him.

"Thanks," he said, a hand going to the back of his neck, "I was... well, it was silly I thought they were _all_ in danger."

"Not silly. I knew they would not let them be harmed but… when they call Hermione's name, I panicked too."

"Yeah?" the boy asked looking up at him, pushing his glasses back onto his face and Viktor nodded. Harry turned his attentions to the girl in the bed and Hermione gave him the same reassurances that Viktor had demanded of her an hour earlier. Both boys were swiftly bustled away soon after as Hermione was to be given her final check over so she could hopefully leave too.

* * *

Once Hermione was given leave to go back to the castle Viktor ambushed that plan and took her for a walk around the grounds, doubling back on themselves until they came to a relatively quiet courtyard, he felt bad for keeping her out of doors, but his desire to speak to her surpassed his guilt. Just this once he had to put his needs before her comfort, it wasn't something he intended to make a habit of.

She sneezed as they sat down, even that was endearing on her, her tiny nose wrinkled as she tried to hold them back only to have to give in a few moments later. Now just in each other's company he swiftly sat down on the nearest bench and without asking permission reached for her, pulling her body, still wrapped in a blanket across his lap. Her little squeak of surprise followed by pink cheeks gave him his first real smile of the day.

"Glad that is over" he admitted softly, and Hermione nodded her head, turning to face him as much as she was able with his arms banded around her.

"You did so well," he didn't care that it was a repeat of her sentiments from earlier, he was happy to hear it, happier now they were alone.

"Two out of three" he sighed, he knew come morning he would be under pressure to prepare for the final challenge. He would have to be even more rigorous now that he had no _real idea_ what he would be facing.

"I'm worried about the final task" Hermione disclosed, staring at him with a soft gaze that put Viktor in mind of Luna for a moment.

"It will be okay, have few months to prepare now, will be ready when it comes" he reassured her, not wanting to talk about the tournament anymore.

Hermione shifted on his lap, wriggling until her head rested against her shoulder, her face looking over at the deserted greenhouses. "I'm worried about more than just the task itself," she said in a small voice and Viktor fought to keep himself still and silent, to not push her until she had finished what she needed to say "when the task is done, the tournament… it will be over, and that will mean…" she picked at the sleeve of his fresh jersey and averted her eyes "... you'll be gone" he ignored the wobble in her voice that made his throat tight. Instead, he leant forward, dropping a chaste kiss amongst her now dried curls and thought about how he wanted to express himself. Hermione opening up had made it easier but it was never simple to talk about stuff like this, he kept his innermost feelings to himself as a rule.

"I think you know" he began in as strong a voice as he could manage "... or if you do not you should, that I like you, a lot. I do not have huge experiences in relationships but… you mean more to me than any girl I have ever met. I know I am older and maybe… well, it is not wholly straightforward situation. But would like to try... for the rest of the year, to spend as much time with you as possible, because I... I do not want to stop feeling I have when I am around you."

Hermione turned to face him then, but as she went to speak Viktor smiled before dropping a finger gently over her mouth "please let me finish" he implored lightly, and she nodded, her full lips rubbing up and down his index finger.

"I think there is real chance that I will love you one day, probably one day soon and I need you to know that because this" he gestured between them both "this is serious for me." Viktor's heart was pounding in his chest, and he was pretty sure Hermione could feel it given how closely she was pressed against him. When he looked down at her, it was to find her looking at him intently.

"Can I speak now?" she mouthed against his finger, and he smiled at her raised eyebrow. He nodded, not trusting himself to speak yet. He had pulled off what he had planned to say fairly well. He had insisted she didn't interrupt as he was determined not lose his place in his rehearsed lines, the hardest thing had been not to ad lib at the end, Mikhail had mentioned, _more than once_ , that the additions he had uttered in practice had sounded more than a little desperate.

"I care about you" Hermione began, sitting up and placing both her hands on his chest, balancing to meet his eyes, a determined gleam to her face that made him sit straighter. "More than I thought possible, and every time I see you those feelings grow stronger, meeting you started a domino effect of good things happening to me, and whenever I trace the consequences back, you are always at the centre of it. You have been gentle and patient and respectful and I… I would very much like to spend the rest of this year, as much time as possible, with you. Because I… I think I could love you too, one day" she finished, her voice trailing off quietly.

Viktor held her face between his hands as he slowly sucked on her full bottom lip to pull it out from under her teeth, moving to kiss her soundly, until he would have never guessed how cold they had both been only hours before given the heat he felt now. He broke apart from her reluctantly, though more confident than he had ever been before that he would get to do so again. He bit back his teasing words that bubbled up his throat given her dazed expression, knowing there was one more thing he should make her aware of. He was not the only one on the bench that liked to have a little warning when they were facing a situation they would like to prep for.

"There is something else" he began.

"Oh?" Hermione replied, her eyes still locked on his mouth. Her cheeks were a little flushed and her mouth swollen; Viktor lost himself for a moment distracted in his perusal of her until a playful shove, and a peal of giggles woke him from his reverie. Hermione rolled her eyes at him, and he kissed the tip of her nose.

"My mother and father would like to meet you. They are coming for the third task."

"Well, that's… lovely and I suppose, utterly terrifying actually" she said her brow pinching.

Viktor laughed "they will like you, Hermione."

"Yes?" she questioned, sitting up straight, clearly eager that she should gain their approval. Viktor had very little doubt that his mother was already half way to won over from his letters and his father had never been able to resist the company of anyone who took academic pursuits seriously, she had nothing to worry about.

"Be yourself it will be fine" he reassured softly, losing interest in talk of his parents rapidly as Hermione's curls were illuminated by the setting sun behind her. This time it was Hermione who broke away, _too soon_.

"Viktor?" she asked lightly, and he instantly picked up on the concerned hesitation in her tone, he pulled back from her seeking to see her face properly.

"Da?"

"What are we going to do?" she asked forlornly "at the end of the year I mean" she qualified and despite her sadness, Viktor felt light, he hated to see her unhappy but the fact that she was made him feel real hope.

He nuzzled into the side of her hair "I do not know, we will work it out, we are smart people."

Hermione smiled, "where there is a will, there is a way" she recited melodically and Viktor stared at her intensely.

"Would you come visit me, over the summer?" he asked urgently, very aware that he was going off script, and fairly sure that he would never freely tell his friends he had asked her, they had been very _specific_ about that particular phrase not leaving his lips.

Hermione was clearly surprised but as she tried to force down a grin he could help matching it "I'll have to ask my parents but I… I would like to."

He beamed at her, _this was going to work_ , he had no idea how yet but it was going to. As she turned her head to remark on the evening drawing in he caught sight of something in her hair, reaching forward he untangled a strange looking beetle from amongst the strands but before he could examine it too closely it flew away.

Hermione grimaced "I suppose I'm going to be removing all sorts from my hair for days?"

He pressed his lips against her brow "I will remove them."

Viktor was getting used to the fact that they were never really on their own so when he felt Hermione stiffen he immediately followed her line of sight to where Weasley was walking over to them, his face was impassive, but Viktor could make out the tense lines of his shoulders and bit down a sigh. _Really? Now?_ It was one thing that the kid was incredibly rude, but he had the worst timing imaginable.

"Ron?" Hermione asked as he got nearer, her voice sounded hesitant, and her posture was stiff, but she made no move to extract himself from his lap.

"Hi Mione," he kicked the ground awkwardly, "I'm not here to speak to you I want to talk to him," he said, in what Viktor imagined was his no-nonsense voice. He tried not to drop his head into his hands.

"To Viktor" she corrected firmly, and Ron nodded with a sigh.

"You should go get warm," Viktor said to her, moving to sit himself up straighter, Hermione made to protest, but he leant forward "trust me" he breathed into her ear.

"I do" she confirmed, though she searched his face for a few moments.

"Then go get warm" he pressed and when she sagged he knew he had carried his point. He would be sure to tell her how much he was loathed to be parted from her when there were no prying ears around. Hermione shuffled off his lap, and he felt the loss immediately. She readjusted the blanket around herself before reaching up and kissing him on the cheek, "as much time as possible" he whispered, and she nodded before reluctantly moving away.

Neither boy spoke while Hermione was still in sight, but Viktor had no intention of being the first to open his mouth, Weasley had come over, let him bring up what he wanted. He was already not the boys biggest fan and interrupting that particular moment had not increased his stock in his eyes

"You are spending a lot of time with her" he began, and Viktor nodded, he had no intention of denying it, they would be spending a lot more time together now, and it would be better for Weasley if he just accepted that. "I don't like it" he continued and this time Viktor did sigh out loud.

"This will get easier if you just say what it is…"

"I don't want you _using_ her" the younger boy spat and Viktor, for the second time that day, felt close to losing control.

"You do not know me," he said deceptively quietly, the accusation had hit him deeply, offending him greatly as well as undermining his feelings for Hermione, Weasley could not have said anything else that would have riled him more. "Using her? I would never" he finished, staring the boy down with a look of intense disgust.

"Really, _quidditch star_ what you could you possibly want with Mione?" he countered, and Viktor fought to remember why exactly it was he couldn't just put the boy onto the ground.

"Probably the same thing you do, but my way is better" he retorted, and Weasley's face flushed deeply. Viktor's rage softened slightly at having his hunch confirmed, suddenly, more than anything he felt really tired. "I have no interest in arguing with you, make up with friend. You have already upset her in my presence, will not allow it a second time."

"You won't allow it?" the boy questioned incredulously and Viktor crossed his arms over his chest.

"No I won't. She has enough to do, worrying about Harry and tournament and her grades. Then you and Luna and Ginny. Someone needs to look after her, and that, until further notice, is me" he walked forward and laid a hand on Weasley's shoulder "makeup with friend. You will regret it if you do not."

"Are you threatening me?" he asked lips set into a thin line.

Viktor sighed "I'm trying to help you," he said before releasing him and walking away "not that you deserve it."


	14. Part One - Chapter Thirteen

_A/N Hello lovely readers, thank you for your patience in waiting for this next update. As I mentioned on Tumblr a week ago I am planning on finishing Part One of this fic (2-3 more chapters to go) and then putting it on hold for a short time while I map Part Two. Thank you for you continued support, I am hoping to have the next few chapters updated more regularly._

* * *

Hermione ground her teeth; the squelching crunch was audible even above the faint murmurings and crunching of parchment. It was the twentieth such noise she had made in under ten minutes, and she could feel Ginny's glare burning into her cheek from the other side of the breakfast table. She couldn't help it. Once again she had gotten up from bed, her head full of pleasant memories from the day before only to have the engaging mist of thoughts evaporate as an article was placed in front of her. This one wasn't even The Daily Prophet. No. Somehow her love life was now suitable fodder for Witch Weekly. Hermione remembered having read somewhere that their readership was the largest for any lifestyle publication in the British wizarding world. How many people would have an opinion on her today? She knew they shipped abroad; she felt exasperated.

"Hermione" Ginny snapped, finally losing patience with waiting for a reaction, she ripped the glossy pages from Hermione's fingers. "This is pretty serious stuff."

Hermione rolled her eyes. " _This_ is what passes for journalism?" she responded haughtily, "let's review what happened last weekend, shall we? First, eight children had to go into the Black Lake as part of an increasingly bizarre competition, risking hypothermia and Merlin knows what else. Second in order for this ridiculous event to even take place there had to have been an agreement reached between the merfolk and Dumbledore to make it happen, the first of it's kind in more years than we have been alive. That's the real story Ginny, not this drivel."

"She's accusing you of using love potions, and I quote 'to satisfy her taste for celebrity wizards' don't you think you should do something?"

"Yes but she also calls me the 'devious Miss Granger' and her primary source is Pansy Parkinson," Hermione huffed.

"Are you really not bothered by this?"

She shrugged. "Not so much about what she's accusing me of, even for the rabble here it's a bit much to believe that I would go to such measures. But…." she paused flexing her fingers slightly nervously. "Viktor and I had only just spoken, and I'm not sure what he will think. He wanted me to meet his parents Ginny" she pointed to the paper still in her friend's grasp, "this isn't exactly what I want them reading as background."

She had told Ginny and Luna everything following her conversation with Viktor in the courtyard, having grabbed Luna on her way back to the common room. She had always intended telling them eventually, probably not in as much detail as she had divulged, but she had been distracted and nervous after leaving Ron and Viktor together in the frosty afternoon. Most of her words had been shared while she wore a hole into the common room carpet. Once Ron had returned not long later, she continued at a more leisurely pace. Ginny had looked starry eyed and Luna her regular thoughtful. Neither had much to offer on the potential confrontation between the boys though Ron had been avoiding her since it had happened, not in his usual angry way but he didn't seem to wait long in a room once she had entered it.

It was much more awkward when she gave an abridged version of their shared declarations to Harry. He looked no more pleased to take part in the conversation than she was to initiate it, but he had been insistent she not keep things from him, so Hermione thought he was as obligated in it as she was. He seemed slightly incredulous that she would consider going to Bulgaria. 'What will your parents say?' he had pondered. Hermione wasn't letting herself think that far. She would wait to get over the hurdle of meeting his first; then she would have to find a way of roping in her mother to convince her dad it was a good idea.

Her wayward thoughts triggered a question. "Come to think of it; I had only just spoken to Viktor three days before."

"Yes, you said that" Ginny responded looking as if she would set the article on fire with her glower. Hermione huffed and dragged the magazine back over.

 _Witch Weekly has exclusively learned that the smitten Bulgarian Bonbon has gone so far as to invite the enterprising Miss Granger to his family home over the summer. Such infatuation is leaving the rest of the Hogwarts population stumped. Mr Krum is a highly desirable wizard, coming from an established family name, and although foreign he does have an already renowned professional Quidditch career. This reporter wonders whether such plans will last once their time together, due to the ongoing Tournament, comes to an end._

"But how did she know?" she asked, not taking her eyes from the words.

"That's a good question, Hermione." Luna's tones drifted into her ear, and she jumped out of her seat, clutching a hand to her chest.

"Will you stop doing that?" she snapped without malice as she pushed aside her breakfast, she couldn't face the slightly cold toast now.

"You are very jumpy Hermione that will be the blibbering humdingers; you should watch for those," Luna advised, pushing sitting on the edge of the bench and pushing a teacup into Hermione's fingers.

"I'm more concerned with the interfering Skeeters at the moment." Hermione sighed, wrapping her fingers around the offered cup and finally relinquishing the article which Ginny promptly ripped to pieces.

* * *

In her desire to keep as far away from the whispering population of the school as possible, Hermione kept to the grounds, taking the longer routes to lessons and picking up speed where possible. Unfortunately, in her quest for invisibility, she forgot a crucial factor; the school's guests being based out of the castle walls.

Hermione had been rushing from the main entrance along to the greenhouses when she bumped into Mikhail, thankfully not literally. She plastered a weak smile on her face at his greeting and forced herself not to fiddle with her hair. She had been unsure about meeting Viktor's friends; she knew how close both boys were to him and while she hoped they wouldn't pay any attention to the article's claims she couldn't explain how the paper would know about her being invited to his house over the summer. It was exactly the sort of thing someone interested in Viktor's fame would do, of course, covertly tell the newspapers about their relationship, though, she mused, usually in that kind of 'kiss-and-tell' the accompanying writing tended to be a little more favourable to the person supplying the intel.

Hermione averted her eyes as she stood next to his broad form, she would have much preferred to end up in Filip's path, if they were angry with her Filip would have just said as much then she could have tried to persuade him. Mikhail was unlikely to be that forthcoming; he kept his cards very close to his chest as a rule.

"Is everything alright?" he asked eventually, and Hermione shifted her feet. _Bloody perceptive Bulgarians._

"Yes, I... well I thought you might have been angry… about the article" she forced out, chancing a look at his face to find him looking down at her blankly. "In Witch Weekly" she clarified.

"Oh," he answered, still looking vaguely perplexed. "No, did not read, just saw headlines."

"Has Viktor?" she asked before she could stop herself.

He regarded her thoughtfully, "Would think so; Filip has subscription. Do not ask, something about hard charms."

Hermione felt her breath stop in her throat, _so he would have seen it, but what would he think? She wasn't likely to see him today, he had practice between lessons and…_ "Hermione," Mikhail's voice broke through her running thoughts and she bit her lip. "Might not like what am going to say?"

Hermione steeled herself,"No?"

Mikhail seemed to take in her stiff posture and his expression softened slightly. "If relationship with Viktor continues, from smile when he came back to boat yesterday it is clear what he wants, need to get used to papers saying things. They do not want him to have anyone in his life. But, does not mean he will be cross with you."

Hermione nodded, feeling a little silly for doubting his reaction. "It's just we haven't known each other that long, and I know that maybe he might think that I betrayed a confidence…"

"He trusts you" Mikhail interjected, with an air of finality. He went to move away but stopped after a couple of steps to look back at her "was bit about asking you to come for summer accurate?"

"Yes," she answered hesitantly, aware that Mikhail might have read more of the article than he had let on. Mikhail grinned, an expression that she wished she saw a little more on his face before shaking his head and eyeing the ship out of the corner of his eyes.

"Thank you, Hermione, will see you soon."

* * *

By the next morning when Hermione took her place at the Gryffindor bench it was eerily quiet in the hall, and she squared her shoulders. She had promised herself she would be braver today, no more taking a double the length route to classes no more hiding in the library. The resolve lasted until the post arrived and she was sat under a deluge of swooping owls. She watched with growing despair as envelopes of all sizes and colours formed a small mountain by the side of her plate. She thought she might have a new appreciation of what it must have been like for Viktor on Valentine's day, well that was until she opened them.

Hermione had been an intelligent girl who had never fit in for all of her life, and she had then come to a magical school only to discover that she was already something of an outcast there as well. She had never shied from the dislike she had been shown. She had heard her fair share of insults, some that floated off her back and some that pierced deeper. By now she was a firm believer that words were just words and that you should never let a person see how much they had hurt you.

She opened the parchment with disdain, not believing anything contained within could affect her, but she was wrong. It wasn't so much the particularly phrases used, but the level of _disgust_ people seemed to have for her that was the surprise. Some were short and to the point, advising her to end her relationship with Viktor less something unsavoury happened to her, something described in great detail. Some were much, much longer, she skimmed those, her eyes picking out distasteful _highlights_. Some were pictorial, and a cursory revealing spell showed that a fair few were hexed.

She looked over to the Slytherin table but Viktor wasn't there, she wasn't sure whether she was happy or sad about it. When she looked back, Ginny was sat at the table her fingers shaking with rage as she leafed through the envelopes Hermione had opened. _What was she going to do with them all?_

"Get rid of them" a cool voice started, and Hermione saw Fleur standing over Ginny's shoulder.

"You shouldn't read those," she said authoritatively, "I get them a lot, banish them, burn them, whatever you do just do not sit there and leaf through them. No one needs to read feedback from people who do not know you. It's like overhearing conversations if someone won't say it to your face you can completely discount it."

Hermione nodded, grateful for a distraction from the mass of hate. "Why would people send spiteful notes to you?" she inquired.

"When you look like me you get blamed for everything," Fleur said with a sigh. "You looked at my mother's cow, and it no longer gives milk... I will give you the contents of my vault for a lock of your hair… You have ruined me for other women. You know things like that."

"Yeah, things like that" Hermione parroted back without any real understanding, she noticed Ginny's face twist as Fleur continued speaking and Hermione gave her a little kick under the table. Her friend's behaviour towards the French student had taken a noticeable dip since the second task. "Really?" she mouthed at her, and Ginny rolled her eyes.

Fleur departed with a swoosh of her hair accompanied by some male sighs and Hermione thought she might be able to eat her breakfast now. She was once again wrong.

"Well," Lavender began from further down the table, eyeing the parchment with a malicious little smile. "You should have expected this to happen, Hermione. The public doesn't react well to... _surprises_ and you going to the ball with Viktor was something of a huge... _surprise._ " Hermione looked at her sidelong, trying to ignore the way the girl's voice had raised into her 'sickly-sweet' tone, she knew how far those words would have carried and wondered how much of yesterday she wasted preparing this particular speech.

"As a… _friend_ , I think all these lies about him wanting to see you in summer are taking a bit far Hermione. I mean you're going to look foolish when it all comes to nothing if I were you I…."

"Lav," Ron's voice interjected and Hermione's head whipped around to find him sitting two seats down from her, _when had he got there?_ "Leave it out would you, green isn't your colour."

The whole table stopped in their actions, cutlery clanking against porcelain as those around them turned to look at Ron who was still tucking into his breakfast. "What?" He asked with slightly red cheeks as he noticed all of their attention.

Lavender looked like she might explode but he cut her off, "I just don't want you to look stupid" he said in a parody of her words. "He likes her alright; that's all there is to it."

"But she..." Lavender protested.

"... Is my friend so leave off." There was no aggression in his tone; his face remained utterly impassive, but the dismissal was clear as well as the warning. Hermione was suddenly aware that there was no one else on the table that morning that Lavender would have listened to accept Ron. She swallowed roughly as the noise died down and tried to carry on with her breakfast though she could barely see the bowl in front of her through her swimming eyes and she resolutely ignored the way that Harry, Neville and even Dean managed to thump Ron on the back good-naturedly throughout the meal.

When they finally got in the hall Ron came along with her and Harry and she managed a murmured 'thank you', and Ron smiled a little bashfully. "We good Mione?"

"We're good Ron."

* * *

Despite her earlier resolve being bolstered by Ginny's attentiveness, Ron's unexpected chivalry and Fleur's advice Hermione felt her veneer begin to crack by the end of the day. More letters had arrived at lunch, having been anxious to shove some food down before her next lessons she had very carelessly opened one before properly checking and ended up getting her fingers burnt by a viscous gel that had been placed inside. She had gone along to the Hospital Wing, at Harry's insistence, which had meant her turning up late for her next lesson and had to strain to catch up with the notes despite her sensitive fingers. The corridors had been nightmarish all day, reminiscent of her first year in the castle. Stares and whispers and even the occasional push had been chipping away at her so when she sat down in her final lesson of the day she was at a low ebb. She had slunk into her seat next to Harry in the dungeon classroom and prayed for maybe the first time to get no attention at all during the lesson. That hope died when Professor Snape waved his arm across the chalkboard and the day's topic appeared. He began his lecture on the dangers of love potion abuses to the soundtrack of a bunch of sniggering snakes Hermione had had enough.

She couldn't find it within herself to go to dinner, so after managing to slope off from her friends, she retreated into her, thankfully empty, dorm and pulled the curtains around her bed before lifting her first pillow. There, lying almost submerged in the fluff was Dragon. Hermione picked him up as she moved under the covers ignoring his little snort of protest.

She had felt a little silly asking Luna for him back, but after the article, she couldn't be bothered to hide him anymore. _Maybe she should have done; perhaps when Lavender saw it there would be another story about how she had imperiused Viktor to give him to her?_

She settled her head down onto the pillows and ran her fingers over Dragon's scales. "I had a bad day" she whispered, admitting it made a rawness she couldn't swallow down appear in her throat.

Dragon leaned into her fingers before arranging his long neck over his front legs that were sprawled out in front of him. Looking at her with one eye open as if willing her to continue.

Hermione sighed, "I've changed my mind, let's not talk about it, let's just sleep."

Dragon crept forward to nuzzle the first tear that fell down her cheek, and made no protest when the flow made a little puddle in the bedding; he only continued to rub his scales against her face, eventually crawling under Hermione's chin when her breathing had evened out.

* * *

Viktor came in for breakfast later that week and eyed the Gryffindor table, his gaze lingering over the empty chair next to Ginny. Hermione had missed a few meals, and he was done pretending to ignore it. Mikhail had told him about seeing Hermione on the grounds, how she had seemed anxious, Viktor had wanted to speak to her but hadn't yet had a chance, the possibility diminishing with every meal she missed. He had talked it over, repeatedly, with his friends and they had told him to sit tight, told him he couldn't act on her behalf, and he agreed, mostly. But as he turned away from the Gryffindor table and saw a shiny black bob sat close to his usual seat he allowed that information to slip to the back of his mind.

He had been incensed when he had first read the article. Their conversation on the grounds had been the collimation of several months of getting to know Hermione, the first real someone he had met romantically. Seeing it splashed across the papers had made him feel sick, plus earnt him a possibly deserved reprimand from his friends for issuing an invitation he had _promised_ he wouldn't, no matter how many times he reassured them he hadn't scared her off.

When he read the article again a few days later, irritated by Hermione's continued no show, he was calm enough to focus on it properly; he found a few of the sources mentioned were students in Hermione's year, all of them girls in Slytherin house. Stepping quickly before Filip could stop him he stood in front of the long table eying the dark haired girl with thinly veiled disdain.

"You are Pansy yes?" He grunted out.

She paused what she was doing immediately, dropping her teaspoon and making a show of liking non-existent jam from the top of her lip. "Yes Viktor, I'm Pansy" she responded smiling coyly. Filip, who had apparently caught him by this point, made a not particularly muffled puking sound and he noticed her eyes narrowed to a spot behind him. _Couldn't even keep up the pretense for seconds._ "I am _so happy_ to meet you properly, _finally_." She continued. This was how he was used to being spoken to, all honeyed words and artful head tilts.

"You are same Pansy from Witch Weekly article?" he pressed, though he knew it to be the case.

"Well yes but you must understand the necessity of such a thing. I merely had your best interests at heart," she replied sticking out her bottom lip in an imitation of a pout.

Viktor looked at her incredulously; he had no desire for this interaction to go on any longer. "You will stop with reporting of my girl, or I send formal letter to my father that will go to yours."

"Excuse me," Pansy snapped in a furious whisper, all pretense of the eloquent young lady long gone.

"Keep petty school rivalries where they belong… In school."

"How dare you, do you have any idea who I am, who my father is?" she snapped, pick highlighting her cheeks.

"No, do not, but have no problem making you enemy of my house."

With that, he was done, but Filip clearly thought there may have been something lost in the translation as he stepped forward himself, "I think English expression is do not piss him off."

* * *

After Pansy had marched off in hysterics, Viktor had chased after Ginny who was leaving the hall. The redhead stopped when he called after her, offering him a small smile.

"Ginny, can you get her coming to meals again?"

"She's not a delicate flower Viktor, don't imagine her up there weeping feeling sorry for herself. She's just… she's had a hard time, and sometimes she likes to avoid conflict. She doesn't let people close to her and when she does she doesn't like upsetting them."

"She is pretending it does not affect her" he responded shortly. He could admit, at least to himself, that he was a little annoyed that she hadn't leaned on him over this after all they had spoken about she should have trusted him.

"Not really, in all honesty, I was more annoyed by what was written than she was. It was more that they had taken something private, something that _belonged to her_ and tainted it. Well, that and I think she was worried that you might have thought she told that papers about going to your house in the summer."

"Just tell her" he implored and went to finally have his dinner before Ginny shouted over her shoulder.

"She's sleeping with the dragon you know?" she exclaimed with a cheeky twist of her lips.

"Lucky dragon" Viktor muttered petulantly and made his way back into the hall.

* * *

Viktor steeled himself before dinner the next day; he had made a plan if Hermione didn't show he was fully ready to ask Luna to get him into Gryffindor Tower if he was going to break the rules he might as well go for broke. Thankfully though when he walked into the hall Hermione was sitting sandwiched between Ginny and Harry. She looked a little pale but otherwise none the worse for her voluntary confinement. Viktor was immediately aware of the hush that fell over the room, them being seen in the same place for the first time since the article had come out. He faltered for a second, unsure if she wanted to talk to him or not until she met his eyes bravely, giving him something of a weak smile. _Decision made._

He waited until she looked back down at her plate before he walked over to her table. "Good evening Hermione" he breathed into her hair, and he bit back his laugh, almost totally successfully, when she jumped.

"Good Evening Viktor," she replied slightly falteringly as she twisted on the bench to see him properly.

"You have been sick?" he questioned lightly, knowing he was pushing at her a little but unprepared to let it go.

"No, I..."

"Then you should come to meals; you will need all weight you can gain for when you come to Bulgaria. Do not let 'summer' fool you, only means non-life threatening weather." She smiled a little brighter at that, and he glanced over at Ginny, "would you mind?"

Ginny smirked "not at all," she jumped from her seat repositioning herself opposite, and Viktor sat to take her place. Hermione stilled as his thigh brushed against hers and he watched her surreptitiously glance around the room at the hundreds of eyes that were on them. He leaned forward and swept his lips lightly over her cheek, ignoring the gasps that echoed in the quiet. "Everyone knows now" he whispered to her, "no need to hide it."

"No, I suppose not," she muttered though her cheeks were in flame.

While they shared a smile, Filip barged from behind. "Budge up, Budge up" he called cheerfully before he dragged his leg over the bench almost sitting on top of Hermione on her other side, pushing an unimpressed Harry into Ron.

"Will you be careful?" the dark haired boy snapped apparently not in the mood.

"Sorry sorry" Filip called back not sounding vaguely apologetic as he sat on the bench pushing Hermione more snugly against Viktor's side.

Lavender stopped all movement as the Durmstrang boys settled at the table, with her spoon on the way to her mouth, her eyes bulging but Filip, as usual, was blind to anyone else's feelings.

"So Hermione" he turned to her with a warm smile "how do you keep up with two men, school work and find time to brew illegal love potions. You must be busier than ever. Do you have schedule for time with them too? Is it colour coded? Can I see it?"

Viktor buried his head in his hands.

Luna suddenly made her appearance, dropping down to sit next to Mikhail, who had gained his seat with far less commotion. He watched his friends face heat slightly as the blonde appeared and he filed that away to bring up later.

"Luna what are you doing here?" Hermione asked as she reached for extra plates to hand to all the sudden diners.

"What?" Luna asked confused "I thought we could all sit anywhere now."

When the menagerie at the table finally got down to eating Viktor turned to Hermione. "Feeling better?"

"Much" she answered immediately reaching to refill her pumpkin juice, and he battered her hand away to lift the jug for her.

"Don't do that again," he muttered. It wasn't a command; he would never take that tone with her, but he wanted to make a point, Ginny's words about her avoiding conflict had resonated with him.

"I won't."

Viktor nodded "I heard you were sleeping with fireball" he teased and didn't miss her eyes shoot up to Ginny accusingly; the redhead didn't look the least bit intimidated meeting her expression with a wink. "To be clear, he is not invited to Bulgaria."

"And why is that Mr Krum?" Hermione asked her voice one of polite inquiry.

"Because after this year I am looking forward to having you to myself, not having to share, especially with one that has scales."

Their playful conversation continued, and Viktor was happy to put the stress of the last week behind them. It wouldn't be the last time something like this would happen, and he was hopeful now at least that Hermione would feel more able to talk to him about it. He had his own worries, about how involving her in his life would drag her into the public eye in ways she would not enjoy, but he couldn't do anything about that, apart from making their time together worth the intrusion.

* * *

When Viktor returned to the ship, that evening he felt like things had gone as well as possible. They had chatted to a few people on the table; Filip had managed not to offend anyone, and he had spent a bit of time with Hermione. He had also managed to tell her about what he had said to Pansy quietly. She wasn't overly happy with his approach, though her fire had melted slightly when he kissed the end of her nose mid-rant. It wasn't in his nature to be overly affectionate, at least not publicly, but he had sat with his hand curled around her hip deliberately. He was making a statement with his nearness, and he hoped it would be heeded.

As he walked down a dark corridor within the bowels of the ship he heard a metallic crash behind him, it wasn't unusual for things to get disturbed when the ship was moored at sea, the current bumping it around slightly, but in the still waters of the lake, it was… odd. He doubled back to see the door of the Headmaster's study slightly ajar.

After a moment he pushed it open a further fraction. "Is everything okay sir?"

When he walked into the room, the place was a mess and standing in the middle was Karkaroff, stripped down to just his white shirt, his collar and cuffs unbuttoned. Viktor was not sure he had ever seen him in so little, he looked lighter, and it wasn't just because he was no longer wearing furs, his shirt that would have usually fit against his skin was billowing around his ribs. Sweat lined his brown and the top of his lip; his whole chest seemed to pulsate as he panted heavily.

"Viktor?" he said casually, his voice weirdly hollow.

"Sir, is everything ok?" he repeated, uncertain what else to say. He knew enough of his Headmaster not to mention the state he was in, though he had never seen him in such away before.

"It's fine, of course, it's fine" Karkaroff answered dismissively, running his fingers through his long hair.

It only occurred to Viktor how drunk he must have been when he noticed that the glass on the floor came from fire whisky bottles, but there was no liquid. The Headmaster didn't slur or shuffle, but as he moved closer his theory was confirmed by the smell of whisky on his breath and if the way it stung Viktor's eyes was any indication he was more than casually inebriated.

Karkaroff fell back into his seat and looked up at Viktor his eyes unsettlingly vacant. "Tell me Viktor are you confident of every decision you have made in your short life thus far?"

Viktor started slightly at the unexpected question though his answer was resolute, "Yes."

Karkaroff nodded, "At your age so was I. Hindsight is both a glorious thing and a curse Viktor, make sure you do nothing that you will live to regret later in life."

Viktor nodded, standing motionless at the doorway not sure if he was needed or not. Several long minutes later the Headmaster seemed to remember he was there again and shouted at him, his tone much more familiar, instructing him 'to go and be idle elsewhere'. Viktor didn't wait to be asked twice, though as he walked away, he couldn't fight the feeling that lingered in his chest that something was very, very wrong.


	15. Part One - Chapter Fourteen

_A/N Hello lovely readers, thank you for your patience. This chapter is focused more on Viktor & Hermione rather than some of the others around them, thought it would be a good chance to give them to give them some one on one time before the whole world goes to crap... this chapter is for arizonadaydreamer, who helps incredibly with my motivation!_

* * *

A contented atmosphere radiated from the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall by Saturday morning. The latest in what had become a string of sensational news articles wasn't exactly forgotten, but the initially sharp reaction had given way to the more typical pastimes of Quidditch chat, school work groans, and awkward flirting. Hermione, having never really been part of those discussions, was locked in conversation with Harry. Given the last minute nature of his solution for the dip in the Black Lake, he seemed to be taking prep for the final task much more seriously. While fighting the dragon had been a fate more terrifying than most fourteen-year-olds could imagine, Hermione knew her friend; the competition had become serious to him the moment herself and Ron had been placed at the bottom of the lake. While Harry ran through a list of potential obstacles he could face Hermione was making a rough list of texts they should start to go through. So engaged in various pockets around the table, the merry band of teenagers were oblivious to the goings-on around them.

Until the owl post arrived.

While the school had moved on from Hermione's 'devious' ways to a certain extent, the same could not have been said for the general public. Unfortunately, it appeared that her mother's much-loved expression 'tomorrow's fish and chip paper' didn't quite hold water when the parchment contained two of the wizarding world's most famous names _aligning themselves_ with a muggle-born. Stacks of envelopes had been coming thick and fast every mealtime, and while their number might have been waning the vitriol they contained wasn't.

Hermione, sticking to the advice she had been given, had been getting rid of the piles but she didn't miss the concerned faces of her friends or the knot of crimson on the far side of the hall. Not knowing how to act to give the assurance that her repeated words hadn't she had turned to the girls.

As soon as the first parchment rectangle fell next to her plate, the light thud marking the first note of the oncoming downpour, Hermione got to her feet, her action mirrored by Ginny, who was on the other side of the bench from her, by prior arrangement.

"Attention!" the redhead called down the table, tapping the straight edge of her knife against her goblet until most of the bleary-eyed students shifted to look at her. "This morning we thought we would have a little friendly competition." Ginny started, lifting one on the letters from the pile and waving it in the air. "The aim is destruction, most impressive wins."

On cue Hermione and Ginny, both took a step back, levitating an envelope between them and inviting Harry to have a go. He had blinked several times before a faint smile lit across his face, and he arched his wand arm before whipping it through the air with everything he had, impressively striking the parchment directly on the seal and scorching it to mere dust. Muted clapping broke out until Harry shouted an indignant 'Oi' to be met with muttered laughter. Successfully having woken the students most stood from the table to eagerly wait their turn. The Weasley Twins hit one envelope in tandem with two different spells, the resulting bang making the parchment swell like a crinkly beige balloon before deflating with a belching sound that made Hermione tut. As the competition continued, arguments broke out over who had done the best so far, and even a few of the nearby Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws had a go.

When Ginny had laid out her idea the evening before Hermione had been worried the Professors might have a bit of an issue with such a ruckus at breakfast but anytime she risked a glance at the top table all of their faces were curiously averted, as if they couldn't see what was happening at all.

Eventually, Seamus won, a pronouncement met by groans around the table, much to his indignation. He was a deserving winner though Hermione was certain there would be some spirited debate as to whether or not his firework-laden explosion had been the product of intent or happy accident.

When Hermione retained her seat, she smiled at the now empty table next to her and resumed eating her breakfast, slightly jogging when Harry bumped shoulders with her. Should Professor McGonagall have taken exception to the display, it would have been worth a detention to convince her friend she was okay and judging by his happy, relaxed expression; Harry was convinced.

Elated she turned towards the Slytherin table, hoping to see a similar effect, but the faces she was looking for were already heading towards the door. Meeting his gaze, she shared a quick smile with Viktor and debated whether or not to call him over. After his very public display of affection Hermione was feeling slightly unsure, but before she could resolve herself, Harry beat her to it.

"Hey Viktor!" he shouted, halting the older boys progression. Hermione raised an eyebrow, and Harry leant back to speak so they would not be overheard. "Hermione if he's going to be… you know? _Around_ … I'm going to have to find a way to get through a conversation with the bloke without stammering."

Hermione gave his arm a squeeze as Viktor, and his friends reached them, and they exchanged polite, good mornings.

"Fancy a game of Quidditch?" Harry asked, and Hermione had to stifle a smile at that, no longer positive Harry's only motivations were getting to know Viktor better, not that it dimmed the gratitude and pride she felt for him at that moment.

The conversation continued as the little group drifted towards the doors, Hermione wrapped her arms around herself happily as Ron joined the group, awkwardly for a few seconds until Harry introduced him as a Chudley Cannons fan. A spirited discussion began after Mikhail said something in response that no one present needed to understand Bulgarian to conclude was derogatory.

They had made it to the main doors when the sound of pacing feet echoed behind them. Cedric caught up to the group a huge smile on his face, completely distracting anyone from his panting breath. "That offer stand for us to Potter?" he asked excitedly.

Harry almost entirely suppressed a wince when he registered Cho was standing next to the Hufflepuff champion. "Yeah sure" he answered limply, his shoulders slightly slumped. But Cedric didn't pick up on it; his gaze had fallen back to Hermione who had intentionally dropped to the back of the group with Luna.

"You forming the cheer squad Granger?" he asked teasingly, causing Filip to whip his head around an expression of unbridled delight on his face, apparently totally having missed the heavily ingrained sarcasm in Cedric's tone.

* * *

Out on the pitch, Luna and Hermione lounged in the almost empty stands, grateful that the spring air had given way to the first hints of summer as they watched the play absentmindedly. Every now and again Luna would slip into 'commentary mode' to make Hermione laugh, an endeavour that was always successful. Hermione busied herself transfiguring flowers out of the blades of grass she had collected on the way over and fixing them into Luna's hair.

She occasionally watched the mishmash group of students as they whipped around, playing what seemed like a very casual game. She could spot Ginny easily, the trail of red hair behind her as she danced around with the Quaffle earning repeated shouts which sounded very much like they had come from Ron. Harry had a wide beam on his face; it made her heart happy to see him like that, in truth, it was one of the only reasons she came to the matches, though not without customary protest. Her friends never looked more like the children that they should have been than when they were in the air. Though she fought hard to keep her eyes securely on their faces, whenever she looked down and processed what they were doing it made her feel sick.

After an hour or two of exhausting themselves, a few players fluttered to the ground, seeing one was Viktor Hermione stood from her seat, charming Luna's floral crown to stay in place and headed to the bottom. As much as Hermione would have liked to stay out a little while longer, she did need to get to the library, but she was determined not to go without speaking to Viktor first, who knew when she would get a chance to talk to him again.

Viktor was hovering just above the ground on his broom, a little way from the clusters of students. When he spotted her, he sped in her direction in a way that made her stomach flip, though whether from the potential accident or his presence she wasn't sure.

When Viktor got to her side he got off the broom he was riding languidly, not dropping it to the floor as she had expected, but continued holding it to his side. At first, Hermione felt a little put out that he seemed intent to return to the game so quickly but as he stood back a little his real plan was understandable, and it was so much worse. Viktor tilted his head towards the floating twig, a small smile forming on his lips and Hermione took a step back.

"Have go," he said lightly, his words in no way a question, though not a command either, it was like he could not have expected her to have anything other than a positive response.

"No." The severity in her tone shocked even her and when coupled with the vast step back she took her message was clear. Viktor's brow creased a little.

"Why?" he asked clearly thoroughly perplexed.

Hermione felt pink pool into her cheeks, "there are loads of people here."

Viktor spun his neck around, looking back up at the students who were happily engaged in the continuing game. "They not paying attention to you."

"I… I'm not good at it," she admitted quietly, her arms coming up to wrap around herself defensively.

His head tilted to the side. "Hermione, do you only do things you good at?" his tone was teasing, but she bristled all the same.

"That's not what the problem is," she answered shortly.

"Harry said you are scared, will make sure you safe," he protested, and Hermione shook her head.

"I don't want to." She said with finality and Viktor's expression softened, he nodded dropping his broom to the ground, and Hermione felt her shoulders sag in relief. A moment later she was pressed firmly against his warm chest, and Viktor's chin rested on top of her hair.

"It makes me feel... out of control," she admitted against his jumper, the words easier to share now she wasn't looking directly at him.

"OK but…"

"I don't like feeling out of control," she interjected, wanting to return to the castle now.

"Would like you to try," he uttered softly, and Hermione immediately stiffened again. _Why wouldn't he just drop it? Harry would have dropped it by now._ "I don't want to," she repeated her ire once again rising.

"Understand," Viktor murmured brushing a curl behind her ear. "But saw you watching, you shut your eyes if we went fast or reached for the ball. Maybe if you try it, you won't be so worried."

"Or, I could carry on not liking it," she muttered petulantly.

Viktor sighed above her, "then you will not watch me play?" he asked quietly, and Hermione sighed right back.

"I watch Harry all the time." Her mouth was set into a firm line, the logic of the reasoning behind his words was seeping in, something she found wholly unwelcome. She wasn't used to being pushed on things, and she wasn't sure it was something she would have liked repeated. In any case, she needed time to cool off, to think.

"Not today," he said finally, before reaching down to grip her chin. "Don't be mad at me."

"I'm not mad," she said totally unconvincingly, and he raised an eyebrow at her. "Fine, I _was_ mad."

* * *

For the first time in over a week, the prospect of the post was a slightly happier one for Hermione as she watched Harry open his Easter egg from Mrs Weasley with childlike abandon. It was at moments like this that she was reminded of how difficult his life had been before, or still was when he returned to the Dursleys. It was like his face betrayed how many things he had been deprived of, as his eyes widened when they beheld the huge dark chocolate egg.

Hermione tore into her package with glee, growing up as the only child of two dentists had meant very few treats in her upbringing and while she agreed, on the whole, with her parent's scriptures she couldn't help but delight in the Weasley matriarch more casual attitude to indulgences.

The shiny red paper made a delightful crunch as she ripped the last part open but when she did the broad smile across her face fell away to confusion. There, amongst the silver inside of the paper was an easter egg no bigger than a snitch, one that looked like it had been dropped on one side.

"You don't think…" Harry began, his head tilted to the side regarding the egg with a pinched brow.

Ginny grimaced, "I think my mum might still have that subscription to witch weekly."

* * *

From his place in the hall, Viktor was equally distracted by his own post. Amongst his usual notes, there was a large, thick envelope that landed next to his cup with a satisfying donk. He picked it up, slightly reverentially, unfurling the parchment contained within and running his fingers slowly over the embossed shield for Vastra Vultures on the top right corner and felt a smile tug at his lips.

They had accepted. Of course, the letter was only a formality, they had made an offer for him after all, but it felt incredible all the same. All the time that he had put in, all the sacrifices, they all felt completely worth it for that moment.

He wanted to celebrate.

His eyes were drawn to Hermione, watching her as she held a small, battered, chocolate snitch aloft. It seemed like an odd thing for her to have received as part of the usual deluge. He wanted to go over, but he wouldn't have time to talk properly before classes. It would have to be after dinner, he resolved unhappily. He wanted to go flying, but it didn't seem like the best suggestion, though they had been fine since their little argument on the pitch he had been shocked by the vehemence of her reaction, he understood there was a bit more to it than a fear of heights. He had only wanted her to hover over the ground for a little bit; he wouldn't have even let go. His mind had screamed at him to drop it, but that wasn't exactly realistic. They weren't always going to agree, and if they were to continue this they wouldn't always be together, it was foolish to think they couldn't avoid any level of conflict indefinitely. Though he was certain, he never wanted her to look at him like that again.

* * *

Viktor managed to chase down Hermione before she entered dinner, he was pleased to see that whatever disagreement they had wasn't affecting her as she smiled at him and asked him about his day. When he slipped the envelope into her fingers she raised her eyes curiously, but dutiful opened it, her face brightening when she saw what it contained. His face matching hers as she waxed lyrical for a good five minutes about _his_ wish being fulfilled. She reached forward and gripped his arm as she carried on and Viktor felt the warmth spread up from her touch.

"What are you doing now?" she asked finally, handing the envelope back.

"Want to celebrate," he declared, securing his fingers with hers to make it clear that was why he had sought her out.

"How? We could go down to the kitchens? I'm not sure they will help me, but I could get Luna…."

"You come running with with me," he said, squeezing her hand slightly.

Hermione stilled, "no... no," she replied, with a little shake of her head, but the intensity was nowhere near what she had for flying, and so Viktor pressed on.

"That is what I want to do."

"That sounds... wonderful, but I have to… to study."

"No, you don't, you wanted to go to the kitchens."

Hermione sagged, "what is this sudden want for exercise?"

Viktor smirked at her giving up her pretence so quickly. "Exercise is distraction. You need distraction, I like it. Want to spend time with you, so we go running."

She looked at him appraisingly for a moment, her eyes narrowing as she contemplated his face. "You want to go flying," she deduced, looking up at him a little sadly.

He sighed, "yes, but ground means you are there."

Hermione bit her lip and Viktor ran his thumb over her palm. "Yes," she said finally.

"Sure?"

She nodded, but he wasn't entirely convinced.

* * *

As much as he may have wanted to celebrate as soon as possible, it was the next weekend before he was stood outside the main castle doors waiting for Hermione. It was a lot more comfortable in his Durmstrang training kit now the cold air had all but dissipated and considering the early hour the grounds were relatively bright. Viktor didn't mind getting up early and he knew from seeing her at breakfast often enough that Hermione herself was an early riser though he did still feel a little guilty for getting her out of bed as much an hour. Especially to do something she apparently took no pleasure from. Though not remorseful enough to change his plan, he had tracked courses around the grounds often enough during his time there to know that even a half an hour later they would have no chance of getting around the loop he had planned unobserved.

Finally, the main door opened a crack and Hermione slipped out, her eyes still a little sleep filled. She had pulled her wild hair back into a messy braid, and although Viktor knew it was practical he couldn't help feeling slightly short-changed, he loved her hair. She was wearing a Gryffindor house Quidditch jersey and when he rose his eyes at the 'WEASLEY' printed on the back she scoffed at him, "Ginny" she quipped.

"Did not say anything" he protested.

Hermione rolled her eyes. As she stepped forward to take her place, stretching alongside him, he noticed her trousers, the likes of which he had never seen before. "What are those?" he asked pointing down at the black fabric that seemed painted onto her legs.

"Yoga pants," she answered, bending over to touch her toes and he couldn't help the muttered curse that fell from his lips.

"What are they for?" he asked in a slightly strangled tone, suddenly wishing that the air was much colder, possibly even Baltic.

"Well, Yoga" she answered dismissively before she seemed to wake up a little and shake herself. "Sorry, I forget sometimes," she said with slightly pink cheeks. "Yoga is a muggle exercise that involves a lot of stretching; the material has a stretchy fabric, so it moves with the body."

Viktor wasn't able to formulate a response as Hermione moved into another unusual position, too busy ruminating on how often he had heard it said that muggles had no sense of invention, based on the 'trousers' Hermione was currently sporting nothing had ever been further from the truth. It was no longer a wonder there were so very many of them.

"You show me?" he asked finally and Hermione straightened up to show him something she referred to as a beginners move called the 'sun salutation'.

"Yoga and Pilates are both exercise forms that are good for strength building; I'm not very good at cardio, but I can do these."

Despite his initial scepticism a couple of moves later he was beginning to enjoy it, and not just that he could feel the way his muscles in his back were being pulled out. He would have to revisit this, but after ten minutes of wobbling to the point of nearly toppling over he felt the need to redeem himself in Hermione's eyes and so despite her adorable reluctance they took off.

Viktor deliberately kept his pace slower than he would normally, though not so slow that he would look like he was patronising her, he had seen enough of her narrowed eyes of late to know Hermione would not take kindly to that. As she began to lag behind a little, he turned to offer her some soft encouragement, but the glare she fixed on him was enough to tell him to turn back around and mind his business.

As they turned past the lake, the spot in which he had seen her revising all those months before he hung back to run alongside her and took in her pink cheeks with a warm smile.

"You happier than last time I asked you to do something?" he prodded gently, wanting to try and make light of the strained conversation before.

"I prefer to do things safe on the ground" she responded tightly. "But I still hate this," she finished, and Viktor laughed, his chortles disrupted by a swift punch to his side.

"Don't laugh at me, it's not fair" she panted, "I can barely breathe… let alone talk… I don't run, and I can never go fast enough."

Viktor looked at her properly and realised she was getting a little breathless; they were not even half way, and he was likely to get another shove if he slowed his pace down again. After a moment of indecision, he swept close to her and lifted Hermione over his shoulder.

"What… Viktor.. Put me down!" she screeched, and Viktor accelerated his pace.

"See you move fast!" he called as he ran.

"Viktor" she warned.

"Hermione," he answered teasingly and though she huffed she stopped wriggling, and he indulged in a smile he knew she couldn't see. "I like running, pace was too easy for me, pace was too hard for you, wanted to spend time together, solves all our problems." He was sure he heard muffled laughter against the back of his shirt.

"So," he ventured once he felt Hermione's resignation, "tell me about snitch in the post?"

* * *

What had been happening to Hermione had made most of the Gryffindors a great deal more anxious about the post than normal. So when a package arrived that required two large owls were dropped in front of her, the table was decidedly tense. Though it didn't last long, feeling a new resolve Hermione reached forward and unwrapped the parchment unveiling the biggest Easter egg she had ever seen, it must have been the same size as the average toddler and was encrusted with various other chocolates. She would have been totally dumbfounded, possibly even considered it an elaborate prank, if its arrival had not been followed by two more similar packages being placed in front of Ginny and Luna.

"Would have been bigger, but told my mother about your parents, she thinks this is concession."

She turned to face Viktor who was standing behind her having just entered the hall. "Viktor it's almost the same size as me," she protested, rewrapping the egg that had fallen under Ron's almost lustful gaze.

"You are exaggerating," Viktor tutted with a warm smile before heading back to his table.

Hermione looked back at the egg, "not by that much."

* * *

While moments he could get with Hermione hinted further at a potential future after he left the castle in Scotland Viktor's mind was never far from the reason he was there in the first place. He had been in competitions since before he could remember and competitive spirit was part of who he was. He spent the hours outside of lessons studying up and making lists for what was to come. Karkaroff, in stark contrast to his behaviour at the start of the year, barely checked up on him outside of pointed enquiries every now and again. The change was unsettling. At first, Viktor suspected the words himself and the Headmaster had on his choice of associations had caused the stilting of their discourse but the more he watched, the more it was clear that Karkaroff was withdrawing into himself. He doubted that those from the other schools would notice, Igor wasn't exactly known for his verboseness, but for the students from Durmstrang it was evident something was wrong.

A month before the final task was to be held Viktor received his next instruction, and alongside his silent headmaster, they made their way to the Quidditch pitch. The quiet duo walked up to Harry and Cedric who were already in a state of obvious dismay, as Dumbledore continued his explanation that the ground had been planted with hedges. Viktor's eyes scanned across the newly formed pattern, noting the lack of symmetry and formation shape. A maze his brain supplied, but no, it was to be something more challenging than that.

"A labyrinth," Dumbledore declared, his eyes twinkling in the fading light. "The Triwizard Cup will be located in the very centre, those of you that have more points at this stage in the competition will have a time advantage. Once inside the thick walls, you will have to navigate your way passed a series of obstacles."

Viktor began mentally amending the list he had on his bedside table as potential ideas for what they would be facing were discussed.

"There won't be anything… lethal… will there?" Potter asked, and Viktor turned to face him, noting the dark expressions of the other two Champions.

"Harry…" Fleur faltered, "Practice okay?" she said finally before disappearing off with Madame Maxime.

As the people began to disperse, Viktor's eyes tracked the path of Karkaroff as he walked back towards the ship and took his opportunity. "Harry," he asked quietly, "can I speak to you for a moment?" Ludo Bagman, who had been hanging around fidgeting looked on dismayed as Potter happily agreed and Viktor steered the younger boy away from the sycophantic former player.

Once he was sure they were out of earshot he began. "I need favour" he requested, and Potter looked up at him surprised.

"From me? It's not about the competition is it I mean…"

"It's about Hermione"

Harry straightened, showing some of the grit that Viktor had learnt the young boy was capable of. "What about her?"

"Keep Hermione away from Karkaroff."

"Why would you ask for that?"

Viktor was about to respond when a rustling sound caught their attention, as they turned towards the tree line of the Forbidden Forest Mr Crouch from the Ministry walked into the clearing, mumbling animatedly to himself and repeatedly looking over his shoulder.

"Mr Crouch?" Harry asked, stepping forward and the man turned to them. His gait was laboured, his clothing worn, as he got closer, they could make out a few words, but they didn't make any more sense.

"Harry," Viktor said, breaking the boy's gaze from the man in front of them, "go get someone."

The boy nodded his head and Viktor walked forward to Mr Crouch encouraging him to sit down.

"It's… didn't believe it, it's my fault… told my wife I would but he… remain unseen, don't move…. Now it's all… what will they think of me…"

His babbling continued, and Viktor pressed a hand on his shoulder encouraging him to sit down. As soon as he made contact, Mr Crouch grabbed the front of his robes and opened his mouth, but Viktor never got the chance to hear what he might have said as he registered the curse that hit is back too late, and he fell into unconsciousness.


	16. Part One - Chapter Fifteen

Viktor groaned as he returned to consciousness, blinking his eyes and attempting to move his sore frame he slowly became aware of the pressure on his back. _How did I end up on the ground?_ The danger of his situation began to creep into his understanding, and his arm darted for his wand but the sudden movement made the back of his head pound, and his hand automatically redirected to his throbbing scalp. He moved his fingers amongst his hair until he found a wet patch, the consistency of which he was sure was thicker than mere dew from the ground. He couldn't quite make out a clear image of his fingers as he held them in front of his eyes. _Surely he wasn't holding six?_ But in spite of the blurring, he could make out the distinct spattering of red. He tried to move again, but a hand on his shoulder stopped him.

"Er… I'm not sure you should be moving," a hesitant voice said.

"Potter?" he queried groggily, and a quick affirmative was made.

"What happened?" Harry asked, and Viktor closed his eyes in an attempt to remove the scramble in his mind, _what had happened?_ He remembered Mr Crouch, his babbling incoherence, the sudden surety in his eyes, a crunching sound, not much to go on, he wasn't sure even sure if he had picked up on it at the time, and then… nothing.

"Was hit in back," he replied. It wasn't a difficult deduction to make; his body was aching though that probably was from the rough impact with the ground, rather than anything more serious. He couldn't detect any other injuries, not yet anyway.

"I thought that might have happened," Harry responded lightly, and Viktor once again stretched for his wand. With Harry close and seemingly calm he felt safe enough to continue laying down, at least until his head stopped spinning, but he felt better once he was armed.

"What happened to Crouch?" Harry asked, and Viktor immediately tensed again.

"Why?" he asked harshly, and Potter exhaled roughly.

"He's not here; it was only you when we got back."

Potter's words floated over to him as he tried to concentrate on getting up. The fact that the man was gone changed everything, there would be questions and Viktor would prefer to be upright when he was giving a statement. Harry helped him as he got to his feet, not another word exchanged between them and in the quiet other noises began floating over, he could make out the sound of an irate Karkaroff, _when had he gotten back?_

"This is _beyond_ an insult Dumbledore, and I will not stand for it." His Headmaster was seething, and the familiar tone automatically made him straighten against the protests of his body.

"... now, Igor, there is no proof that anything untoward happened to Viktor," Dumbledore's much more passive tones said in reply. "Until he wakes up we will not have the full picture. It may simply be a case of self-defense gone wrong..."

Viktor tuned out the rest of the words and took his arm away from around Harry, who had been supporting a little of his weight, somewhat successfully given their relative builds. They were a little way off from the cluster of teachers, and they didn't notice him immediately.

"Ah Mr Krum," Dumbledore said as he turned to regard him, eyes twinkling, "please if you would be so kind as to let us know what happened here."

"Dah…" Viktor began as his hand came up to connect with the back of his head, he slid his eyes over to his own Headmaster, looking for permission to speak but in the interim Dumbledore misread his hesitation.

"Now Mr Krum, we are all friends here, anything you may have… we understand there were extreme circumstances and we just want to get to the bottom of it."

Viktor regarded the old wizard almost blankly, his mind replaying Karkaroff's words from the start of the visit, how he had expected them to get hassle, to be labelled as _dark wizards_. He boxed up the feeling after a moment and falteringly relayed what he could, which wasn't much. He barely got through it before Professor Moody, the one the students called 'Mad-Eye', ambled forward and questioned him, doubt and accusation leaking from his tone. Viktor felt his fire rising, and made to take a step forward, only to have an arm collide with his chest and push him back. Karkaroff marched forward in a billow of robes standing before the Defence teacher and Dumbledore meeting their eyes disdainfully before spitting on the ground at their feet. When he looked back up his eyes were wild and his tone was venomous.

"Maybe people should start looking in your direction Albus, two Hogwarts Champions in the tournament and now my boy is attacked. What do you have in store for the little French girl hmmm? Surely you won't be able to convince people that _she_ is dark, no, you might have to work a little harder there."

As Viktor was still stood in shock from Karkaroff's speech a number of things happened very quickly, Dumbledore didn't reply but the gamekeeper suddenly leapt forward, grabbing Karkaroff, who for the first time in Viktor's memory looked small, and smashed him against a nearby tree, holding him in a cruel grip around his throat. Viktor instinctively rushed forward, dimly aware that Harry was at his side just as Hagrid was commanded to drop him.

"Mr Krum," Dumbledore said, "perhaps you can..."

"Not a word" Karkaroff interrupted almost breathlessly, rubbing at the bruises already forming on his neck and glaring at the unrepentant gamekeeper. Viktor nodded his head once in his direction. "You will hear back from him in the morning when _I_ will relay his information," Karkaroff decreed and straightened his robes.

"Igor, I really think you're over-reacting if we could just go to my office…."

"No," he interrupted fiercely before rubbing his neck turning to head towards the ship, "come Viktor."

Viktor turned to Harry quickly, knowing his time was short and frankly not wanting to stay around much longer. "I am sure Hermione will have heard about this by morning, assure her that I am alright."

"Of course," Harry answered quickly. "Are you, though? Alright, I mean?"

Viktor knew he had a large bump on the back of his head, and he was still feeling pretty nauseous, more than anything he just wanted to lie down in a warm bed. He knew enough from various Quidditch injuries obtained over the years to know that he should probably keep himself awake for a while. "I am fine," he assured.

"Maybe you should go to the hospital wing," Harry tried.

"I think I would prefer to be on the ship right now," he replied honestly. The castle in the distance, that had looked so warm and inviting when they had emerged all those months ago suddenly looked a little foreboding.

"Viktor!" he heard in the distance, and he shot a quick shrug to Potter before rushing to catch up with his Headmaster.

* * *

Karkaroff muttered the entire way back, things about Dumbledore, about England, about Phoenixes and darkness and Viktor, Viktor kept quiet. Even the odd question that was spewed out amongst the rage filled rhetoric was clearly not meant to be answered, he focused on his shoes and tried to keep up.

Karkaroff's anger was a relief in a way; it was the most animated he had seen the man in months, though he could concede that he would probably be less reassured if the vitriol peppering the darkening sky were directed at him.

When we're finally back in the safe confines of the ship Viktor followed in silence as they made their way towards the Headmaster's study, and Karkaroff shepherded him inside indicating he should sit on the chair facing his desk before standing over him, looking at the back of his head and muttering a few charms.

Viktor expected to be dismissed straight away after the perfunctory healing, but he wasn't. Instead, Karkaroff made his way around the office and poured two generous measures of fire whiskey pushing one over the desk in front of him. Viktor eyed the glass hesitantly, firstly because of the Headmasters bizarre mood and second as he wasn't sure hard alcohol was the best thing after blacking out, he was certain his mother would have disapproved.

"One won't kill you," Karkaroff bit out, though he didn't sound mad anymore. He drained his glass in one gulp and stretched over to refill it. "I could do without drinking alone."

Viktor picked up his drink, but he only sipped at the harsh liquid, having been training as long as he had in his life he had never really built up much of a liking for the acquired taste, or any tolerance for the heady contents. Fearing a refill, that Karkaroff seemed to be doling out to himself with gusto, he held the glass in his fingers, off the table, content to nurse it until he was dismissed.

"What happened tonight, will happen again, and again, and again," Karkaroff said, sounding older than he ever did before. "You will be assessed based on where you come from, who your family and friends are, where you went to school, the list will go on and on."

Unlike the walk back Viktor was unsure of his role in the conversation, so he sat back and watched the Headmaster as he ran a hand over his face.

"One day you will have to make a choice… when I was your age… well, a lot of things happened… but ultimately I choose to spite them."

Viktor brought the glass to his lips again and took a slightly larger sip, bolstering himself. "Was it the right… decision?"

Karkaroff's head whipped around to look at him, not enraged, almost as if he had forgotten he was in the room. His head lowered and he ripped a piece of parchment that was amongst the strewn chaos of his desk. "No," he answered finally, his voice sure but quiet.

Viktor nodded, tensing his fingers against the arm of the chair before he braved looking up again. "When did you know? That it was wrong choice?"

Unexpectedly Karkaroff laughed, the sound hollow and reedy, "immediately," he said, drawing the word out languidly. "That's the thing about _him_ you see. He draws you in, pulls you from wherever you are and throws you onto his chessboard. You throw yourself at his feet in turn, ready to be sacrificed, willing to sacrifice _anyone_ to please him and his first act as the keeper of your soul is to show you how foolish you were ever to believe him."

* * *

The next morning, in a hushed conversation in their dorm Viktor gave the concise version of the events from the night before. What had been planned as a debrief session on the next task quickly became even more serious as Viktor regarded a worried looking Filip and an increasingly silent Mikhail.

"What now?" Filip asked tensely, leaning back against his headboard.

"I spoke to Karkaroff, he is going to give my statement to Dumbledore," he explained. Once he had finally gotten back to the room that night, he had hastily written out everything he could remember.

"You don't have to do it?" Mikhail asked softly, one of the first things he had said for half an hour.

"He has forbidden it," Viktor clarified, and the others nodded. Sharp as Karkaroff may have been he was very rarely that firm but when he was it was absolute, and in any case, Viktor had no desire to fight against his directive now.

Mikhail nodded. "I expect Karkaroff is going to restrict our access to the school for a while," he mused.

"What about Hermione?" Filip asked suddenly, and Viktor allowed himself a small smile.

"I asked Potter to talk to her, she will understand."

As they began to get dressed Viktor was determined to lift some of the sombreness in the room, he shot a knowing look at Filip before turning to Mikhail, "I suppose the access to the school won't cause you any issues?"

Mikhail snorted, "of course not."

"So, what about you and Luna?"

Mikhail fiddled with the buttons of his already done up tunic averting his eyes. "She is _far_ too young. But she is an interesting girl, and I find her company... pleasing."

Filip rolled his eyes, "really, that's all you got?"

"I don't want to talk about it," he bit out, an aggressive display that would have been fairly intimidating had it not been for the pink that filled his cheeks when Filip began making kissy noises.

* * *

Viktor was surprised to see Karkaroff the next day, considering the amount of whisky the man had put away he had planned on just tucking the parchment he had prepared under his study door and taking it up with him tomorrow. As it was, before breakfast they were all called into the hall. Tables had been set up in horizontal rows, and the Headmaster swiftly informed them that they were confined to the boat and the immediate grounds around the lake, but purely only for fresh air and exercise. Under no circumstances were they to go anywhere near the castle, or converse with anyone in it. Meals were to be taken on the ship as well as classes. There was no time limit on the restrictions and Viktor was sure in that moment the Headmaster intended them to go on indefinitely, whether or not that was a practical solution remained to be seen.

* * *

Hermione had been stunned to learn about what happened to Viktor, and even more perturbed as he had asked Harry to mention it to her which made her believe, rightly as it turned out, that he hadn't expected to be able to tell her himself. True their life at Hogwarts had been far from idyllic, but it had seemed simpler than it did now. Hermione began to feel that all these little strands, everything that had happened since Harry's name had been plucked from the goblet, seemed more and more likely to converge somehow. She was frightened, no longer filled with the arrogance that they had when they were small, the self-assurance that they could fix everything, this wasn't going to be a stone set behind some obstacles or a beast accidentally released. Something darker, something was coming.

No official word was given to any of the students as to why the Durmstrang boys were suddenly missing, but Hermione and most of the others were more than capable of connecting the dots. When they had finally gotten a quiet moment, Harry had eventually gone into more detail about what happened that night, beyond the attack. His garbled version of Dumbledore's words had pinched at the back of her mind for some time. While her friend apparently hadn't believed there was anything to worry about, too focused on potential Death Eaters on the staff and Karkaroff being unhinged, Hermione thought differently, assumptions had been made over Viktor's behaviour, assumptions she felt compelled to insist she did not share. As it was, she didn't have the opportunity to speak to him further, not while they were holed up on the ship. She wished she could reassure him in some small way but with no real options available to do that her mind, for the meantime at least, moved to other things.

There was certainly no shortage of concerns to be getting on with, Harry having seen the maze gave them some indication of what he might be up against but the lack of specifics meant that the study material she would have to produce would be vast. As such countless hours was spent compiling lists from just about every section of the library. He would be expected to face creatures as well as spells and any number of different obstacles; they enlisted the help of Neville to help isolate possibilities when Harry mused that the hedges themselves might provide some difficulties.

And on top of that relative mountain, a conversation with Luna over breakfast found Hermione in a situation where a mystery was on its way to being answered. It was only a casual remark that had set her off on what she thought could have been the right trail. Luna had seen Draco under a tree, looking as if he was talking to himself, she went off on a tangent about some creature or other that her Dad had told her about until she mentioned the insect. She had seen it on his knee. Hermione had thought it strange that she would have been able to make it out at such a distance until her friend pointed out its lurid green colour and strange markings.

A memory came to the front of Hermione's mind, one that she thought of often, her across Viktor's lap, feeling warm for the first time that day as the sun began to set in the distance, only now her eyes honed in on his fingers as they gently moved through her matted hair, to the insect he retrieved, bright with markings around its face… almost like… almost like glasses.

"Luna?" she asked, a smile beginning to form on her face. Luna raised her eyebrows, her mouth full of toast. "Do you have anything planned today?"

Luna shook her head, "no nothing today, why?"

"How would you like to go bug hunting?" Hermione replied sweetly and at Luna's bemused expression she laughed, "I'll explain on the way."

* * *

Any mirth she had been feeling quickly fell away as Hermione took in the magnitude of what they were attempting to do, the Hogwarts grounds were vast, and the insect was, from memory, completely tiny, distinctive or not it was not going to be easy to track it down. She considered trying to trick the Slytherins into giving up her location but quickly shot down that idea; they would be onto her in seconds.

So, with no greater plan, they decided to tackle a few of the places around the school that students often disappeared off to, reasoning that if you thought you could get away with a few illicit kisses in those locations, it was probably the place they would have suggested to meet up with a reporter.

That was how the girls found themselves on their hands and knees, searching around in the overturned ground at the back of the greenhouses.

"Granger?" a startled voice called, and Hermione dropped her head, looking between her legs at the upside down, bemused face of the other Hogwarts Champion.

"Hi Cedric," she called cheerfully, before resuming running her fingers through the trampled blades of grass.

"Really? 'Hi', that's your response to being found doing whatever it is you're doing," he responded indignantly, and Hermione looked up at him.

"What were you expecting?" she said, cocking her head to the side.

"What is it your doing?"

Luna piped up, "we are hunting out a new species, it's pretty elusive -"

"What she said," Hermione interrupted before Luna could say too much and as Cedric didn't seem to be going anywhere she got to her feet.

"Well I heard about Viktor," he continued as Hermione righted herself, rubbing the dirt off her knees. "Terrible stuff, if you see him, tell him I hope he's alright."

"I will do," she assured with a small smile.

"Also I saw the transfer list, can't believe he's going to Vstra, next season is going to be so awesome!" he enthused, "But don't tell him I said that bit," he said with a slight flush and she laughed. "Anyway, I better get back to the books."

"Good luck Cedric," she called out to his retreating form.

He turned around, walking backwards. "I don't need luck Granger," he replied with a teasing tone, "heroes wear yellow, didn't you know?" Hermione smiled in spite of herself, and he grinned at her minor concession. "Oh and you've got dirt on your face," he finished with a wink and then turned around speeding off back to the castle.

"You know I begin to see why half the school is completely in love with him," Luna, who had suddenly appeared next to her, said thoughtfully.

"Never mention that in his hearing," Hermione warned.

"But you agree?"

Hermione sighed, "against all of my better judgement I do."

"Shame you've got such a _persistent_ Bulgarian attached to you then," Luna baited.

"I wouldn't go that far," Hermione replied tartly, and both girls laughed before giving up for the day and heading inside themselves, hopeful that they could coax the elves out of some fresh lemonade.

* * *

Viktor walked through the grounds quickly, reaching the shadow of the castle and entering inside without pausing. Karkaroff's staunch position had eventually relented, too many boys in too little a space was leading to arguments and with the task looming he needed to head the library, there were resources on the boat but not enough to cover what he needed, he didn't want there to be an advantage he wasn't utilizing, he was already behind on points.

When he made it into the familiar space, he moved on autopilot, walking amongst the tall stacks collecting from his mental list before settling himself at a table at the very back, _their table_. It had been such a long time since they had been there, together. Somehow, despite it only being months it felt like a lifetime ago.

He thought he knew of all of the barriers when he first started pursuing Hermione. She was young, and though age wasn't that much of an issue, especially in their world, she was still at school, and that made the distance between them a larger problem than it would have been otherwise. He thought they had overcome that, they both had feelings for each other, had admitted as much, they were both keen to continue after the competition wherever that might lead.

Then he had spent that night in Karkaroff's office, listened as he went from melancholic and remorseful to incoherent and fearful. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but everything seemed a little less simple that it had before that, and he didn't know how to turn back the clock.

The time went quickly as he buried himself in the books so much so that he was startled when a hand came to rest on his shoulder almost an hour later. He looked up to find the very welcome sight of Hermione, smiling slightly sheepishly at him.

"Hi," she said with a little wave, and he got up to pull a chair out for her. Before she sat down, she surprised him a little by stretching up onto her toes and laying a gentle kiss on his lips, dropping back down into the seat before he had a chance to react.

"How did you know I was here?" he asked dumbly.

"A little bird told me," she answered sweetly, rummaging in her bag for her parchment.

"I do not understand expression," he confessed, resuming his own seat.

"It means that I was informed, but I wish to keep the identity of the informant a secret," she said primly, and Viktor's eyes crinkled when he watched her attempt at a resolute expression. He leant closer, one arm leaning over the back of her chair and the other hand coming to rest on the table in front of her. Hermione's eyes drifted over them, registering that she was now blocked in, but she didn't back away.

"Was bird of Bulgarian descent?" he asked softly as he shifted forward again, so close his breath ghosted across her cheek. Hermione made a small sound, but it wasn't an answer. "Hermione?" he pressed.

"Now you mention it," she replied in a breathy voice, "it was vaguely Filip-shaped."

Viktor smiled before dropping his lips to her face and peppering small kisses from the apple of her cheek down to her jaw. Her fingers came to rest on his chest, stuck there rigidly for a moment before she moved them up his neck and into the back of his hair. He pulled away a little when he realised what she was doing, groaning slightly as her delicate fingers gently traced around the shallow cut that was still in the back of his head. At least the bump had gone. He leant into her touch, looking up at her slightly pensive face.

"About what Dumbledore said," she began falteringly, "you shouldn't listen you know. I know that Karkaroff, well he might be a dark wizard, but it doesn't mean you are."

"Hermione," he sighed, "it's complicated,"

"What is?" she asked leaning back and withdrawing her fingers from their careful exploration.

"It is association, suspicion that we are under is down to Karkaroff. When Crouch arrived I… I had told Potter to keep you away from him. He is still my Headmaster; he defended me. He has looked after me since I was eleven."

Hermione's eyes regarded him carefully, "I understand," she said finally.

"Do you?" he asked incredulously, and Hermione sagged into her seat.

"Not really but I'm trying to I guess, it's hard for me to understand how someone like you can respect someone like him."

Viktor nodded it was as much as he was going to get for now. They worked together side by side for a while before he became aware of Hermione's fidgeting next to him.

"Viktor," she said at last, and he put down his quill. "I'm worried about the final task, all these little things keep happening, and something is pricking at my brain, I feel like something is going to happen."

Viktor reached forward to take her small hand in his "Hermione it will be all right." He leant forward to kiss her cheek again, then moved his hands to cradle her face and kissed her lips, mashing them over hers until they were both breathless.

In between revelling in the soft feel or her warm and pliant mouth, he worried about how easily he had lied to her. But what was he supposed to say? _I'm worried too; I want you as far away from here as possible. I'm concerned I won't be able to protect you._

In the end, he didn't say anything; he could not burden her with any more questions he couldn't provide the answers too. He simply kissed her and prayed that they were both wrong.

* * *

 _A/N Thank you for your reviews and adding to lists :) Third task coming up next, and Mr & Mrs Krum drop in!_


	17. Part One - Chapter Sixteen

_A/N Hello lovelies, first off thank you all so much for your patience with me, I have had a very difficult month in my personal life which has either coincided with, or been the cause for, a blank tumbleweed like brain that has made updates impossible. That out of the way, it is now, finally, time for the third task, and the arrival of the Krum's!_

 _For clarity large sections in italics are flashbacks._

* * *

Viktor craned his neck to glance up at the dark green hedges that were now dominating the once neatly manicured Quidditch pitch; they looked more monumental, more intimidating than he could have possibly imagined from that first evening when the nature of the third task was revealed. They were so high that the dark-green, almost black leaves blocked out most of the darkening sky, the setting sun having disappeared beyond the last visible point some time ago. He clenched his fingers a couple of times and tried to ignore the cold feeling that seemed to seep from within the leafy barriers. There was undoubtedly something magical about them, though whether they were a particularly rare breed of plant or just enchanted to behave strangely, he wasn't sure. Herbology wasn't his strong suit; he found it difficult to get excited about things rooted to the ground.

Viktor rolled his shoulders and pulled his jersey down his arms as he moved back to the crimson marker on the soil, a few paces behind him. It was his designated spot so that the champions would be precisely spaced 'to look the best for the viewing crowd and photographers', or some other nonsense that one of the Ministry muppets had been prattling on about, what felt like hours ago now. Not that any of them were stood where they were supposed to be at present.

Diggory and Potter were both speaking with Dumbledore, worried expressions on both their faces, though the older champion was masking it better. Fleur was looking up at the hedges, exactly as he had been not a moment before. Her gaze was assessing as she reached a hand forward as if to touch the perilous foliage before she seemed to think better of it, her limb remaining motionless in the air for awhile before she took one last look and retreated, to stand beside Madam Maxine, who was watching her student with poorly concealed concern. A quick quirk of his head revealed that Karkaroff had not moved from where he had been fifteen minutes earlier, standing far enough away to give them both space, but close enough to still have been considered where he should have been. It was for the best.

* * *

 _Karkaroff's behaviour had been growing increasingly erratic since the attack on Viktor, and the subsequent detainment of the entire school contingent to the ship. After he had relented, reluctantly, and allowed them off the vessel to attend meals only, the Headmaster retreated, both literally, and if it could be believed socially. Always a reticent man now he barely spoke, that was when he was even seen. Hastily scribed lesson plans were left on the desk at the start of classes, a different boys name written at the top of each parchment stack to indicate that they should take over the planned instruction._

 _Viktor had been passed his study several times, debating whether or not to announce himself, the noise from within the forbidden walls ranging from deathly silence to violent crashing. When the Headmaster did show his face, Viktor was sure he wasn't the only one to have noticed the lingering smell of alcohol, the fact that Karkaroff no longer seemed bothered enough to cast a spell to mask it was giving the boys more cause for concern than the consumption itself._

 _Finally, the tensions on the all but unsupervised ship broke, a swift argument after dinner turned heated, leading to violence, in the blink of an eye the air was full of deep calls and punches were being exchanged. Though the fight was broken up, eventually, and both boys forcibly sent off to different areas of the ship, Mikhail had suggested they find the Headmaster. The situation needed to be reported, and though none of them would ever presume to tell Karkaroff what to do, him coming before them all to reprimand them was what was needed to diffuse the situation entirely, otherwise the same arguments were only likely to surface again tomorrow._

 _And so the three of them had gone to his office, not deeming it fair to elect just one of them to weather his displeasure. They had intended to knock politely and wait in the corridor, but when they got there, the door was slightly ajar, splinters of wood having chipped free of the lock. Fearing the worst Filip looked back before pushing it all the way open, and they were met with a scene of total devastation. The great carved desk in the centre of the room was smashed into two pieces, a tremendous chasm having fractured down its middle, the force of the spell or physical action needed to do so would have been enormous. Books and loose parchment pages were spread all over the small space, covering almost every available surface. Viktor had thought the room was empty at first until a laboured panting brought their attention to the far corner of the room, there, with his legs pulled up to his chest, was the Headmaster. His hair had come loose from his usually neatly tied pony, hanging down his back, his shirt was ripped, dampened by sweat and covered in, what he really hoped was not, drying patches of blood._

 _The boys, acting on instinct, took a single step forward but were immediately halted in their tracks by Karkaroff's hand coming up._

" _Leave," he commanded hoarsely, "shut the door behind you."_

 _Despite the familiar finality in his tone none of the boys heeded his words. There, on the skin that had been exposed by the ripped away shirt, was the dark mark. Somewhere in the back of Viktor's startled mind came the realisation that he had never actually seen the fabled brand before, it had been described to him, several times, in whispers in school rooms and more concretely by his father, when he had asked about the war years before. Voldemort had never made it to their shores, the iconography they feared had been left behind by another man, but that didn't make the revelation any less shocking. To see it, to witness the skull and snake darkly embossed into human flesh was a different experience entirely, to remarking on the stupidity of young boys etching a geometric shape into school books._

 _He couldn't be sure why his reaction was so strong, he had known for a long time who the Headmaster had been before, no boy would have been sent to that school ignorant of the Headmaster's prior crimes. Neither had he been striving under the misapprehension that the Headmaster was a reformed character. In essence, Karkaroff was the man he had always been, tempered slightly by the things he had seen, done, and the years of apparent peace._

 _Maybe it was the realness of the moment that had impressed upon him just how dangerous and yet futile his presence was. The ugly quiet that permeated the room as Karkaroff registered what had happened, his eyes widening momentarily before he palmed his wand and Viktor took a step back, the boys grappling with each other for a panicked moment, each attempting to all push the other two behind themselves. In the struggle he almost missed the Headmaster chuck his weapon to the ground despondently, his head dropping in defeat._

" _Just," he started, pulling uselessly at the frayed fabric of his shirt to pointlessly obscure their view, "just go."_

 _This time they all complied._

* * *

The situation was eerie, Viktor decided, though his English was getting better, immersed as he was with natives every day, he couldn't always find the right word, but in this instance, he thought it was correct. A strange smoke seemed to spill from the inside of the maze, creating a fog around them that he was sure was not down to the weather. It added to the prevailing quiet that surrounded them, despite the crowd behind. Viktor couldn't make out if all of the voices had hushed in anticipation or whether his mind, gearing up to face the challenges ahead, had blanked them out.

It made sense he thought, as he tilted his head to the side, the smoke would add to the dark, heightening the sensory deprivation that would kick in when they entered. It was already making him feel uncertain, playing with his mind, eating away at his feeling of preparedness, as he felt prickles crawl up the back of his neck.

Wrenching his head away again he turned to face the crowd, eyes scanning until he spotted his mother and father, their faces were serious, not that the expressions themselves were unusual, especially in front of strangers, but he could see their stress even from this distance. It was strange in a way, not that they shouldn't have been concerned, but he was so used to seeing their faces in the crowd when he played Quidditch, and they always looked to be enjoying the experience, especially his father. He supposed they were so used to watching him play that they had become desensitised to the perils of the sport, but this was something entirely different.

His heart lifted when he saw Hermione was still with them, tucked in next to his mother, part of a blanket thrown over her legs that his father had insisted she share with them. He couldn't be sure from this distance, but it didn't look like much was being said, he supposed nerves were acting up now. He was learning more about the girl the more time he spent with her, Hermione, in his experience, had two settings in response to fear; a constant stream of seemingly incessant babble, coupled with uncontrollable fidgeting, or still, rigid silence. She had been the first when he had met her earlier in the evening and he much, much preferred it.

* * *

 _He had arranged to meet with Hermione before he introduced her to his parents, and waited for her in one of the walled gardens at the back of the school, the library being far too public, especially as he was already in his champions kit, there was little chance of being low profile today. He could have met her at the tent they had set up for the champions and their families but had requested an earlier meeting, partly for his selfish reasons. His parent were less likely to ask too many embarrassing questions of him if they turned up together, not to mention a moment alone would not be unwelcome. But another part of him, the part that was in tune with her, wanted to set her mind at rest before she was thrown into the deep end. He imagined she would be a ball of unnecessary nerves when she got there, and he was right._

 _She could barely sit still, and in a way, despite his concerns about how things would go, it calmed him, with barely a second thought he pulled her onto his lap, resting his hands on her slim waist and making a point of telling her not to wiggle. When he drew a laugh from her, however weak, he felt his chest relax._

" _How can you be this nervous?" he asked, looking up at her and tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. She had worn it down, at his request, he liked it when it was riotous, when the day was sunny it seemed to reflect almost every shade of brown possible._

" _What if they don't like me?" she asked softly, and Viktor fought the urge to snort._

" _Unlikely," he proclaimed, but Hermione didn't look appeased._

" _But, what if they don't?" she pressed, worrying her hands together and Viktor wrapped his arms around her middle tighter._

 _Recognising her n_ _eed to talk it through he gathered his thoughts for a moment, trying to order what he wanted to say before resting his chin on her shoulder and pulling his face into a serious expression. "Okay, suppose they meet you, and somehow, despite their intelligence and warmth, fail to see you are lovely, so bright you are considered gifted, as well as hard-working and beautiful. Suppose that happen, what you need to know is that I make my choices, I started year travelling across ocean to fight dragon, I get what I want Hermione."_

 _She bit her lip as if she were trying to suppress a smile, but he wouldn't let her, bouncing his leg underneath her and holding her tighter, "Feel better?" he press_ _ed, slightly smugly, and she thumped his chest in rebuke._

" _Yes," she responded primly before laying her head against his shoulder, leaning her body closer against his chest. "Thank you."_

 _Viktor smiled into the top of her curls, commending his past self for the plan, he felt more at ease than he had all day. It was moments like this when he wondered what would have happened if he had come to England and not been a champion, they could have spent more time together then. It wouldn't do to dwell on such things now; it was what it was. They would have to get used to being apart even more in the next year if she still wanted to keep the lines of communication open._

 _Thinking of the future, his thoughts turned back to his parents, and he turned to the quiet girl in his arms. "Will you sit with them?" he asked, he wanted them to get a chance to know her properly, and he didn't hate the idea of seeing her support him in the stands, an image he was hoping would be regularly repeated._

" _Yes," she answered immediately, and Viktor paused before asking his next question._

" _You will not feel... conflicted?"_

" _You haven't noticed have you?" sh_ _e asked with a teasing lilt to her voice and he watched on bemused as she sat up straighter again, pulling at the bottom of her long sleeve t-shirt, holding it away from her body, so the images straightened out._

 _He hadn't thought to look at it when she first walked over, after registering the dark red colour, but as she had prompted, he looked again. It was subtle but clear now his eye was drawn to it; he noticed the line of ribbon that had been carefully stitched down the middle, separating the slightly different hues of either side of the shirt. Just like the scarf she had shown him all those months before, one side with the Hogwarts logo, a little badge denoting Potter underneath, and the same reflected on the other side for him. Yes, it was just like the scarf, except this time it wasn't his name on the underside, it was visible, she didn't have a jacket or anything with her, it wasn't hidden._

 _Before she could resettle herself against him, he kissed her, surprising her a little. Usually, he led up to those moments a more cautiously, gauging her reactions before making any moves, though he just acted this time. One of his hands cupped the back of her neck and held her to his face as he secured her position with a hand softly clasping at her hip. He swiped his tongue against the seam of her mouth urgently, almost sagging in relief when she opened her lips, plundering into her mouth and pouring all that he didn't have the time, or eloquence with her language to say into his actions. She melted into him, more comfortably, more completely, than she had before, one of her delicate hands fisting into the bottom of his jersey. He absentmindedly hoped her increasingly desperate grip would leave that small patch a crumpled mess, the tiny network of veined creases would remind him of her when he would need it later._

 _He was drawn away from the soft comfort of her mouth, all too soon, by a massive whooping sound and turned to find Diggory regarding them with a huge grin on his face._

" _Is this where the champions get their send-off kiss?" he enquired, pointing to the patch of grass in front of them before making a show of looking around himself, "looks like I'm next," he continued crossing his arms over himself. "If you could wipe your mouth before coming near me Granger, I would appreciate it. Viktor looks like he's been a little more enthusiastic than I would typically like."_

 _The other champion walked away after laughing heartily at Hermione's inability to provide an adequate comeback, between her slightly stary, post-kiss expression, and the dull flush on her cheeks from his teasing she was uncharacteristically mute. Viktor hadn't bothered to chastise him, preferring to offer a hand gesture, some things, after all, were perfectly interpreted in any language._

 _When he looked back around to enjoy the last fleeting moments of Hermione's flushed expression she looked a little sad. "Do not worry about him, he was trying to be funny," he reassured her, lightly pinching her side to seek to shake her out of her mood._

" _No, it's not that," she replied, sitting further away from his chest and reaching to twine her fingers with his._

" _My parents again?" he queried, trying to meet her eyes._

" _No, well yes... but also," she traced her thumb in circles around his palm and averted her eyes. "Please be safe," she whispered._

 _Viktor leant up to kiss her temple, "I'll try."_

* * *

Viktor moved into a lunge as the first klaxon sounded, the deafening noise disturbed a flock of crows that must have made their home in the top of the maze, and they scattered, squawking indignantly as the Hogwarts champions disappeared into the maze.

He lowered his body to be able to take off at a sprint, careful to not go too low so he wouldn't unbalance himself on the dewy grass. He would have infinitely preferred to be on his broom. He caught Karkaroff's eye, his face it's typical mask of stoic reserve until it slipped for just a moment, 'I'm sorry', he mouthed, and Viktor nodded, not sure what else he could do at this point. There would be time for that to be rectified later, once he had spoken to his father, he was sure that once they had left England, the Headmaster would return to his usual demeanour.

The siren sounded again, signalling his time to leave, and he managed to drag in one more deep breath before taking off and submerging himself into the mysterious labyrinth.

* * *

When the second klaxon sounded Hermione jolted, even though she had been expecting it, even counting down to it for the last ten minutes, since Harry and Cedric had gone forward. Her eyes remained fixed on Viktor's back as he sprinted into the maze, quietly wishing that she could track him for longer, the veritable wall of leaves made it impossible to have any idea what was going on inside, and now Viktor and Harry were in there. Her fingers twisted into the soft cashmere of the blanket that had been draped over her knees when she had sat down in her seat between the Krums and the Weasleys, Ron was on her other side, Ginny next to him, Mrs Weasley was at the furthest point.

The siren sounded again, and Fleur disappeared into the maze, her bright ponytail swaying with her quickened step.

She exhaled heavily watching the frosted cloud that was expelled from her lips; it was too cold for June. You could have heard a pin drop in the crowd, she had expected people to begin chatting amongst themselves once the champions had disappeared from view, but the atmosphere was too tense for that. She had expected to feel that way, what with meeting Viktor's parents and all, but there was too much to worry about to be concerned with that, and in any case, they hadn't got off to a bad start.

* * *

 _Hermione wasn't aware that she had stopped moving at the mouth of the tent until she felt Viktor's warm hand on her lower back. At first, she thought that he was going to propel her forward, but he didn't. Instead, he held his hand there until she looked up and gave him a small smile, indicating she was ready to go in. He didn't take his hand away as they moved through the outer ring of people, and she did nothing to shake off the priority hold._

 _It wasn't hard to pick out Victor's parents, given the small number of individuals assembled in the centre of the room and the fact that she knew who the ginger heads were here for and that Fleur's parents were already off in the corner, talking in animated French. As soon as her eyes fell on Viktor his mother's face illuminated into a bright smile and both pairs walked towards each other. Mrs Krum was tall and broad-shouldered, with dark hair that fell artfully, just below her shoulders. She was casually dressed in comparison to most pureblood women Hermione had seen before, wearing tailored trousers and a soft cowl neck jumper in a dove grey, that highlighted her light sapphire eyes and dark features. What caught Hermione's attention was her jewellery, something her mother would have referred to as 'statement pieces'. Mrs Krum had accessorised her simple clothes with huge drop earrings with sparkling diamonds and sapphires that glinted as she moved and a bracelet that matched._

 _They were older than her parents she thought, but probably not by much, Hermione was suddenly struck by an image of both sets of people meeting and shook it off quickly before it added to her already out of control nerves._

 _There was a slight shuffling of standing positions at first, as Viktor was wrenched forward into his mother's arms for a tight hug followed by a slap on the back from his father before the attention turned to her._

 _Mrs Krum looked down at her, despite her flat shoes she was a tall lady, though she didn't seem to use the advantage to intimidate. "_ _Hermione, may I call you Hermione?" she began smili_ _ng sincerely, "I feel lik_ _e I know you already."_

" _Err yes, Mrs Krum," Hermione replied awkwardly, wishing she had thought to wear something more polished than the homemade jersey and jeans._

" _Sofiya darling, it's Sofiya," she corrected before looping her arm under her husband's and dragging him closer. "And this great brute is Grigor," she said with a teasing tone of mock adoration that made Viktor's lips quirk as his father looked heavenward._

 _Mr Krum, like the rest of his family, was tall and broad, Hermione felt quite engulfed when standing with the three of them. His eyes were darker than his wife's, and more assessing, though they didn't seem cold. He had significant features, and a face more marked with lines around his eyes than his mouth._

" _Don't let his silence fool you, he's a teddy bear," Sofiya continued, and Grigor rolled his eyes, "Isn't that right dear?"_

 _The man glared at his wife indulgently before turning to Hermione. "Miss Granger, it is wonderful to meet with you, will you sit with us during Viktor's challenge?"_

" _It would be my pleasure," she answered honestly and at his direction they moved to the refreshment table to continue their conversation._

 _It wasn't long before Hermione felt at ease enough to enjoy the conversation. There was something incredibly melodic about Sofiya Krum's voice, her accent clipped and chimed at her speech, and while her English was perfect, her pronunciation retained an impression of where she was from. Grigor'_ _s accent w_ _as more pronounced, his natural timbre less suited to twisting around the unfamiliar pattern of English speech, though it was no less perfect executed, it just, rightly or wrongly, gave the impression that it didn't come as naturally to him,_

 _For her benefit, and down to their politeness, the conversation was conducted entirely in English, prompting Viktor's mother to gush at how much he had improved in the last year._

" _I suppose one only needs the right incentive," Grigor remarked lightly, and Hermione flushed while Sofiya's eyes twinkled._

" _She's delightful."_

 _After a few more embarrassing moments, where his mother asked about her hair, explaining how she had always wanted curls herself, alluding quite strongly to the fact she might now finally get her wish in grandchildren, Mr Krum decided to take charge of the conversation._

" _So, Miss Granger, what are you looking to do when you finish school?" he asked, the words came out a little harsh but Hermione was fairly sure it wasn't intentional. She had heard Viktor speak about his father's temperament and ideals enough to know that the man valued drive and ambition highly in anyone he met, so was unsurprised that he had sought to probe her._

" _It's a little early for that Grigor," Sofiya chided, but Hermione waved her off._

" _I would like to undertake a mastery, maybe more than one, I'm still deciding on what after that," Hermione replied, hoping that it would not be considered too vague an answer._

 _Grigor didn't look surprised by her response, "Viktor tells us that you have a lot of options open to you, indecision in such circumstances is understandable."_

 _The little party broke up briefly when Filip and Mikhail came in; both boys clearly favourites with Viktor's parents. Filip made a show of lifting her arms and her hair, checking her over until Viktor asked him what the hell he was doing, or she assumed that's what he said, she only detected the frustrated tone of the muttered Bulgarian._

" _Looking for seal of approval," he replied smiling happily, "Where did they put it?"_

 _Viktor dragged her away after that, taking a moment to give her, and probably himself a little bit of a break._

" _So, what do you think?" he asked as he poured her another drink, briefly pointing out Cedric, who suddenly looked a lot less jovial than he did earlier, stood next to Cho Chang as the young couple were sandwiched between both sets of parents in a tableau of British middle-class awkwardness._

" _They're amazing," she replied honestly, taking a big sip of her drink, she had been talking even more than usual, and her throat was parched. At her response Viktor groaned, rubbing his hands over his face. "What?" she inquired confused._

 _He smiled at her, "Just don't forget you like me, people fall in love with them, and then I never hear from them again."_

" _Unlikely," she replied, echoing his words from earlier and reacting quickly enough to move away from his fingers, intent on pinching her side._

 _When they moved back over to continue the 'meet the parent's experience' she saw Sofiya eying her hybrid shirt and so the gentle inquiry about her other friend who was a champion was not a total surprise. Hermione had worried about this moment since the stupid article had come out, only at least now she had a way of ensuring such a thing didn't happen again._

 _She screwed up all of her courage, ready to defend herself if she needed to. "Harry has been my friend, one of my best,_ _for a very long time."_

" _Loyalty is nothing to be ashamed of Hermione," Sofiya returned kindly, "scandal is the bread and butter of the uninformed."_

 _Hermione felt relieved that the topic was out of the way, but that relief quickly turned to discomfort when Molly Weasley made to move past them to the drinks table. Her actions at Easter had stung, and Hermione couldn't help but be nervous that she would say something to her about the article in front of Viktor and his parents._

 _After a moment's indecision, she stopped the matriarch as she approached them, trying to keep her voice steady as she introduced the visitors and averted her eyes when Molly's usual motherly tone took on a clipped edge._

 _Mrs Weasley puffed up her chest after eyeing Mrs Krum's earrings, with no small amount of disapproval, even Hermione could admit they were a little 'much' for what was essentially a school competition, however, she seemed to carry them off. On a million others they would have looked gaudy and overdone, on her, they_ _looked, well, right._

" _We are here to support Harry," Molly began with a brittle smile, looking at Hermione with an air of accusation. "Harry Potter," she clarified proudly, "he's like one of my own brood."_

" _I'm sure I should be impressed," Mrs Krum began with a broad smile, and the noise around them seemed to fall away as Molly gasped, insulted._

 _Sofiya animatedly dropped a hand on her chest, "I'm so sorry, my English… it is not the best, I have caused offence?"_

 _The accidental provocation was washed away quickly, but Hermione watched a few minutes later as Mr Krum pinched his wife's hip a move she recognised from Viktor. "Your English is perfect, wife," he said with amused chastisement._

" _I have no idea what you mean darling," she responded faintly, plucking his champagne flute out of his fingers and taking a long sip, winking at him in a way that was much more provocative than Hermione was accustomed to in the behaviour of people her parent's age._

" _You should never try to make someone feel inferior unless they deserve it."_

* * *

Viktor felt his first real stab of panic when the hedges suddenly moved, with a shuddering of leaves the entrance he had just used was lost to him. Deciding that keeping moving was his best option he took off at a steady jog making split second directional decisions. He had read up on almost every element of maze history and design; most were said to use traditional patterns, leading to the emergence of prescribed ways in which you could navigate one quickly, _always turning right was the surest way to lead you to the centre_ and other well-versed hints. However, those mazes were constructed for fun, as a folly to have erected in the manicured gardens of the wealthy. This was something altogether different; he got the impression from the constant trembling noises he could detect in the stillness of the evening, that the formation of walls and pathways was changing at all times.

The first obstacle he came up against was an imposing blue wall, as he turned a corner at speed it was directly in front of him, erected between the path hedges but nothing else was visible. Viktor went to turn around, but the lane had silently closed behind him. He had no other option than to go forward.

As he approached the blockade, it began to glint slightly, twinklings and shimmerings emerging all over the dark blue board until he was standing directly in front of a representation of the constellations visible in the night sky. Except something was off. He looked closer, Ursa Major was in the wrong position, and the stars in the Leo constellation were misplaced, everywhere he looked there were mistakes, some glaring and others that itched at his mind until he could unpick what was wrong. He withdrew his wand and began moving things around, silently grateful that Filip took such an active interest in this class. When Regulus finally moved into the right slot, the wall glowed for a moment before disappearing and Viktor took a second to collect himself before running again.

Once he had come up against nothing else, no barricade or challenge for another five minutes he began to get anxious. It was possible he was still too close to the outer edges, and needed to move further in to encounter the obstacles that were protecting the cup, but he was sure he could hear feet every now and again, that suggested that the other champions were close by.

He paused for a moment in an attempt to get his bearings and stretch his calves. He barely heard the muttering of the curse, once again leaving him no time to react. The unfamiliar magic moved over his body, drifting like thick gel from the crown of his head down to his toes. He was rooted to the spot for a moment, but he could no longer feel the residual ache in his limbs, or the chaffing of the cold against his fingers. He felt… weightless and calm and….

' _Find Fleur._ '

The command was spoken in a soothing tone, which lingered in the recesses of his mind, animating his body as he made to comply. It was a reasonable request, one that he had no problem fulfilling eagerly. He stalked through the maze with more determination, more certainty than he had before, whenever he made to think about where to go, or how fast to run the same voice in the back of his mind provided the answer immediately. It was reassuring, tranquilising and... distracting, he belatedly realised that he had lost his focus, his senses felt dulled even though his body still seemed to react. He couldn't rationalise, it was like his mind was being held in a warm cloud, hovering above his body.

Eventually, he saw a ponytail of brightest white hair disappear around a hedge, and he automatically quickened his step, his feet hitting the damp grass in time with the rhythm of the commands in his mind.

She span around as he approached and he smiled instantly at her familiar face, though she looked momentarily relieved she unexpectedly stiffened, scanning his features before something she saw made her face shutter, her eyes widened before she took a step back.

"I found her," he said, with no idea why he wanted to. But it was over now wasn't it? That was the point, that was what he was there for, find the girl, and he could leave.

' _Stun her._ '

The voice said again, and this time Viktor hesitated before complying. That didn't seem right; he looked back at Fleur who looked for a moment like she might run away, he couldn't let that happen, he needed to think. He leant forward and grabbed her wrist, pulling her towards him.

He needed to think.

Forcing himself to concentrate was like wading through treacle. He would get a couple of words together, and then they would disperse, and he couldn't remember what they were.

He kept looking at her face, and something was telling him no.

At his continued pause the voice in his head magnified, both in volume and urgency, Viktor shut his eyes. Thinking became even harder now; it was like his thoughts were being forced to the back of his brain, to be locked behind a door.

' _It will be easier.'_

" _Just let me take over.'_

Viktor's last coherent thought before he raised his wand was that his friend looked afraid.

* * *

Hermione instantly sat forward when red sparks appeared; firstly it was the shock of seeing anything after what felt like hours of just watching the inanimate foliage but then real panic set in. Red meant someone was asking for help, _but who?_ She got up without realising it and would have fallen over the blanket she dislodged if it wasn't for Ron's quick reactions stopping her topple.

In a mass of feet, the immediate family and friends of the champions went down to the mouth of the maze, waiting to see what would happen.

They didn't have to wait long; Fleur was removed from the maze, being cradled against the dark form of Professor Snape who had his mouth set in a grim line. The Beauxbatons champion remained limp in his arms as he passed her over to Madam Pomfrey's care and Madame Maxine rushed forward along with Gabrielle, her little sister.

Hermione heard the hushed voices explain that the young woman had been stunned and she felt bile rise from her stomach. She had known something was wrong, from the moment of Viktor's attack all the little fragments of strange behaviours that year had been playing over in a loop in her mind and yet she still couldn't piece it all together to reveal anything that made sense.

The adults all seemed to be trying to find ways of subtly looking accusingly at each other, but Hermione didn't believe one of the others was a fault here.

Something else was going on.

Her eyes were drawn back to the Potions Master; once Miss Delacour had been taken away to the infirmary. He was furiously whispering something to Dumbledore, his mouth moving minimally though continually as the Headmaster looked on gravely.

Before any arguments descended over the tense grouping another set of red sparks illuminated the night sky and this time several of the Professors tore into the maze, freezing some of the hedges as they went.

Somehow Hermione knew it was Viktor this time, even before she saw him. And his mother must have had the same foresight as she moved towards the mouth of the maze with her, standing silently side by side staring into the blank void of pathways that had been left open.

It took two of the rescue party of Professors to carry him out, clear that he had also been stunned. _For the second time that year_. His parents were next to him in an instant, his father gruffly waving off the attempts of some of the Hogwarts staff to start assessing him, Hermione couldn't blame him. She was sure Viktor would have relayed what had happened the last time he had been in this position, they would no doubt feel he was in as much need of protection from those standing around him as from whatever was in the maze. Hermione's stomach fell to her knees as she observed the blood that was smeared over his face and the whiteness of his cheeks.

When Grigor eventually allowed his son to be placed onto a stretcher, though he determinedly kept one side of the fabric secured within his grip his face hardening in a way that made him look almost recognisable. Sofiya looked at her as they made to leave the field and Hermione felt torn, she wanted to go with him, to be there when he woke up but Harry was still in there. If this year played out like any of the others, this would be because of him, her friend would be in the eye of the storm again, and she couldn't let him do it alone.

"I… I have to stay," she said finally, and Sofiya gripped her shoulder.

"You know where we will be."

Once the second contingent of people moved to the Hospital Wing, the tension ratcheted. Seconds felt like minutes and minutes like hours. Hermione couldn't take her eyes off the maze, waiting, just waiting to see his face so that the knot that was tightening in her stomach could finally release. Even though _she knew_ in her very bones that it wasn't going to happen.

At some point, one of her arms that she'd had wrapped around herself tightly was pulled away, and Luna appeared at her side dragging her cold hand into hers, squeezing it tightly.

"Hermione," she began, her voice full of anxious warning and Hermione swallowed down roughly against the lump in her throat.

"I know Luna, I know."

As the adults kept talking amongst themselves the students on the grass clearing gravitated towards each other; they held themselves stiffly not a word exchanged amongst them. She would worry about what was happening, what it all meant after, now she just wanted to see Harry.

When he eventually appeared, it was almost anticlimactic, for a moment. It was as if all of her silent prayers had been answered; she had been stood, doggedly staring at the maze and wishing for him, then all of sudden he popped up in front of her. The crowd, who had missed a significant amount of the unfolding drama with the other champions cheered uproariously, but Hermione, whose eyes had been trained on Harry from the moment he came into view, hunched on the floor, heard _him_ above the rising clamour. When he released his first sob, sitting up slightly as a tremor moved through his chest, she ran forward, barging people out of her way, heedless to who they were, to get to his side. When she reached him, throwing the gaudy cup he never wanted far away she wondered why it had taken her so long to see what was right in front of her.

She had been so tuned into Harry, to his mess of black hair and his dirt covered face that she hadn't looked to the ground in front of him. To his hands that were twisted _so hard_ against the scratchy yellow jersey that his fingers had drawn blood, to the limp body that was lying prone on the ground. To Cedric, who was staring up at the pitch black sky without seeing, his mouth no longer pulled into a winning smile or a boyish smirk.

Hermione's breath was wrenched from her body as she collapsed down to her knees, she didn't hear the moment that the crowd caught on to what was happening when the sounds died down and the sickly sensation from the beginning of the evening returned.

She looked at Cedric, her eyes fixed on his sharp cheekbones and kind eyes that would never again be illuminated by the warmth that he held within.

She looked at Cedric, doomed to be forever young Cedric, until all that could be heard were Harry's tortured cries, drifting hauntingly into the night.


	18. Part One - Chapter Seventeen

By the time Professor Moody approached, limping over to them as they remained on the cold ground, Cedric's father had run to where they were and collapsed alongside his son. If Harry's cries had torn at her heart, Cedric's father's pleading shattered something in her soul. Hermione vaguely felt a memory surface, her parent's watching TV and the news announcing another child, a teenager, had been killed in the city, some pointless fight had led to a life cut short. Her father had grumbled, and her mother had held her tight.

'No one should have to bury their child.'

Releasing the death grip he had maintained on the boy's jersey, Harry had thrown himself into her, clinging onto her shirt, despite the increasingly insistent words from the professor now next to them. He wanted Harry to go with him and kept reaching for his shoulder as if he would prize him away. Harry was not going anywhere, at least not without her, and at that moment Hermione's legs weren't responding to any desire she may have had to move.

Ron came barreling over not long after, and like so many times before it was only his voice that got through to them, well, her, Harry wasn't yet coherent. When Hermione felt Ron's hand rest on her shoulder, she suddenly became aware that he might have been talking to her for a while.

"Mione," he said harshly, with a shake of her arm, "we have to get him out of here," he implored, his eyes damp. Hermione nodded, happy in that moment to follow instruction on what to do to. Ron helped her get to her feet, with Harry still attached to her.

* * *

Despite not having been aware the din of the crowd while they were outside, the sudden silence, once they were inside the castle walls, was jarring. Their very footfalls seemed to ring out in the corridor, the echo carrying up to the high ceilings. For once even the portraits were silent. Hermione trialled behind the small party intent in getting Harry to safety. Professor Moody was at the front, even more, agitated than ever, and he seemed to struggle with his leg, his limp slightly more laboured than she could remember seeing before. Ron and Harry were in front of her, Ron having to almost hold Harry up by this point, a mixture of his injuries and his emotional exhaustion preventing him from walking by himself. He turned around every now and again, Harry, as if to check she was still there, each time their eyes met his face looked so relieved Hermione had to choke back the sobs that threatened.

She was still numb to the realities of what all of this meant, though, she was far from ignorant of them. Hermione couldn't even to bring herself to imagine the horrors that had befallen her friend and fear gripped at her. Up to now the night in the Shrieking Shack in their third year had been the scariest thing she had ever encountered, and yet now, whether because time had dulled the memory or not, it suddenly seemed tame.

Voldemort had reached within the school, their haven, and endangered everyone she cared about. Her mind shifted to Viktor injured in the Hospital Wing, and she reflexively swallowed. _How would she tell him about all of this?_ He was leaving. Perhaps after the events of this evening, he would go and never look back, and though it made a lump form in her throat, from the bottom of Hermione's heart, she couldn't have blamed him if that's what he decided.

They turned yet another corner, and Hermione looked up, suddenly realising how far she was lagging behind, her footsteps seemingly slowing from the weight of her thoughts, She shook herself before increasing her pace. Noise from further back in the corridor made her whip her head around, so she wasn't looking where she was going when she collided with a firm body, a body that reached forward to grip her shoulders before she could clatter to the floor.

Looking up to thank her would be saviour, and apologise for her lack of spacial awareness, Hermione came face to face with the drawn countenance of Igor Karkaroff. Her planned words of politeness died on her lips when she registered not only who it was, but how he appeared. The Durmstrang headmaster's eyes were wide, his hair a mess, at least half of it having escaped the band he wore at his nape. His robes were askew, exposing a white shirt that wasn't fully buttoned underneath, and his sweat lined collar bone. The typically rigid headmaster was practically vibrating.

He released her with a start, almost as if he abruptly realised who she was, and Hermione reflectively took a step back, ready to mumble her pleasantries and get on, but Karkaroff didn't move, he just kept eyeing her.

"Did… he saw _him_?" He asked suddenly, his harsh whisper reverberating around the empty corridor.

Despite the fog that had descended in her brain Hermione had no problem following his meaning. She considered playing dumb for a moment but the look in his eyes stopped her, he was tense, _too tense_.

"Yes," she replied honestly, as her hand moved slightly closer to the holster of her wand, just in case.

"You believe him?" He barked out, his eyes even more maniacal. Hermione hadn't realised before just how tall he was, he took a step forward, and she took a measured one back.

"Yes," she confirmed again beginning to panic, why her belief should mean anything to the man she had no idea. Her eyes involuntarily moved to the end of the corridor where Professor Moody was rounding the corner with Ron and Harry still following behind. Hermione was debating charging off after them when the headmaster suddenly followed her gaze, his eyes widening before he stepped forward, gripping her arm, and preventing her planned escape.

Hermione made to pull away from him, but his constraint was far too strong, "Let go of me."

"No," he said firmly, moving to drag her away, "I think you should get Dumbledore."

Hermione spluttered in confusion, "Get Dumbledore? I… I think he's a little busy at the moment."

"Then we will find him," Karkaroff continued as he yanked her along behind him.

A moment later Professor Snape and Dumbledore appeared at the end of the corridor, and the Potions Master took one look at the desperate grip the Durmstrang headmaster had on her wrist before pulling her towards him by her shoulder.

"Miss Granger will be coming with us," he drawled in his usual no-nonsense tone, though Hermione didn't miss the hint of command those words held. The two angular men glared at each other for a moment, and Hermione had the distinct impression that some silent communication she had no hope of understanding, was passing between them.

"Fine," Karkaroff seethed back finally shooting a hard look at Dumbledore over his shoulder before he looked back at her. "Tell Viktor," he began but his mouth snapped shut as he shook his head, "Nevermind," and with that, he disappeared moving at pace.

"Where did Harry go?" Dumbledore asked as Professor Snape released her, and the unfamiliar sober tone he used pulled Hermione from watching the retreating Karkaroff.

"Professor Moody took him, Sir, I'll show you the way."

* * *

When Viktor woke up, he immediately registered a similar sense of confusion that had permeated his being while inside the maze, but his surroundings were filled with none of the silence. His heart began racing; he had to get up, to move, to find everyone. Only when he went to comply with the unsoothing shouting in his mind, being bellowed in his native tongue, he was hindered by strong hands pushing him back onto, what the back of his mind could just about work out, was a hospital cot. He relaxed a little when he realised it was his father holding him down, softly spoken words of assurance letting him know he was safe.

When Viktor properly opened his eyes, he rolled his head, and his mother was sitting on the other side of his bed. She smiled at him as she clasped a hand securely around his, but her eyes looked sombre.

It took a little while for him to place himself, but eventually, Viktor realised they were in the Hospital Wing, where he had come when Hermione had been attacked. She had sat on the edge of the cot, peddling her legs as she tried to hide her new teeth. Though he was in an area sealed off by a series of light blue dividers that had been pulled around the tent for privacy or…

Awareness and memories filtered back to Viktor all at once as he considered the implications, and he turned to look at his father who slumped a little while sitting in a worn looking chair.

"Imperious," he murmured without any unnecessary build up, and Viktor nodded, despite the sick feeling in his stomach. It all made sense now of course, with that one word his behaviour in the maze all came back to him. Someone had been in his mind, compelling him to act in that way. The more he tried to remember the less he could recall; there were some warped images and a slight memory of a voice, a calm tone that had wormed its way inside his brain.

With a start, he remembered the void, the blackness that had come at the end, the point from which he could remember no more.

"Did I hurt anyone?" He asked, fear gripping his chest.

His father wiped a hand over his weary face, "You stunned the girl-"

"-While under the curse," his mother interjected sharply, with a glare to her husband.

"While under the curse," his father amended, with eyes to his mother to say that he was getting to that. "But Viktor, more happened this evening. There is no easy way to tell you all of this, so forgive my bluntness."

Viktor nodded, his concern rising. His father never pre-warned anyone about his bluntness, let alone asked for forgiveness for it in advance; it was typically something people just had to accept about his character.

"The Dark Lord has risen again…"

Viktor laid back in an increasing state of despondency as his father filled him in. The news of what had happened had apparently filtered back to his parents since they had taken his prone form back to the Hospital Wing. Viktor couldn't take it all in. That he supposedly performed the Cruciatus Curse made his stomach roll, it was one thing to have an Unforgivable Curse carried out on you, but for the user to twist that control to make you perform such an atrocity was something else. _Did that make him culpable?_ It was from his wand. _Should he have been able to fight it? Had he even tried?_

It took a while for the unsaid to filter to the front of his mind, Viktor wasn't stupid, no matter what the British papers might have liked to imply, suddenly the privacy screens around his bed didn't feel like they were there for his protection. He wondered if he would need to _prove_ his innocence again, but _how_ this time? It was only his word that something had happened. He took comfort that his parents were there now.

When he came to the end of his information to impart his father looked older than Viktor ever remembered, and he excused himself to get some hot drinks, Viktor heard him exchanging a few words with what sounded like two men, just outside of the dividers.

His mother stood as Viktor's gaze fell on the distinctive red of the British Auror uniform, visible for a moment in the space his father had exited through before the screen was pulled together again. She pushed some of his short hair off his face and chatted about nothing while she helped him move up into a sitting position, fluffing his pillows.

She retook his hand when she explained about Cedric. Professor Sprout had been in to see them earlier, checking up on Viktor's progress and explaining what had happened to the Champion from her house. He couldn't fathom how to process the news. When they had entered into the TriWizard Tournament it had been pointed out _several times_ that people had been fatally injured before, they all knew it was a possibility, but it didn't mean they expected it to happen. Not this way. They had faced dragons, merfolk and all kinds of challenges but they weren't expecting this, this wasn't the fight they had signed up for.

Viktor remembered just before the task, sitting with Hermione in his lap while Cedric teased her, the boy's face happy and smiling, so full of life. _How was it possible that he wasn't here now?_

"It is so quiet," Viktor said at last. He didn't know what to say, how to articulate his reaction to any of the information that had been imparted, so he started on a new topic. Thankfully his mother seemed minded to go along with it, though she looked at him knowingly.

"Mikhail and Filip were here earlier, but we sent them away to help get some of the other boys settled on the boat," she replied, "I will send word to them that you are awake."

"Karkaroff?" He asked.

"Is nowhere to be found," his father replied, re-entering the little space with some steaming cups floating in behind him.

Viktor couldn't say he was surprised, the events of the evening were making him reassess the last few months, seeing his headmaster's behaviour in a new light.

"His mark, it was coming back," Viktor whispered, looking at his father who returned his gaze sternly for a moment before nodding once and passing him a cup of tea. Viktor knew they would soon be having a deeper conversation on the headmaster, one that would probably not be in his mother's hearing.

After finishing the tea that he wished was coffee, Viktor placed the empty cup on the side, fiddling with the edges of his blankets. "Where is she?" He asked softly.

"Hermione has not been here darling," his mother answered kindly, placing her own cup down on the table next to his. "But I imagine she has had a difficult evening, to say the least, Harry was there you know, and if what Madam Pomfrey heard was true she had to be the one to drag him away. I am certain she will be here when she can."

Viktor averted his eyes, "What if she believes that I-"

"Son," his father interrupted forcefully, "the right person would find you over a body, with a wand in your hand, and still ask you what had happened before they assumed anything. If your letters are anything to go by she is an intelligent, compassionate witch, who has developed feelings for you, as you have for her. You do her a disservice to doubt her now."

"Yes, Sir," Viktor responded gravely and was thankfully pulled from further discussion on the subject by the divider rattling again.

Viktor had a moment of apprehension, thinking that it was time for the Ministry to question him. However, when Fleur's soft blond hair came into view, he suddenly would have preferred to sit through an invasive inquisition, than face the girl that he had unintentionally wounded. He could see a bruise blooming on her cheek that he had a horrible feeling he would have somehow caused, and he wished he hadn't just drunk a large cup of tea, for fear of bringing it back up.

"Fleur I, I'm sorry," he mumbled out, it was insufficient, but he had no idea how to make up for what he had done properly.

Fleur shook her head, "It was not your fault, you stunned me, which was… _unpleasant_ , but given the events of the evening, being dragged out of that maze may have kept me… alive," she finished with a slight choke, both of them thinking of their fallen Champion.

"In any case," she continued, shaking herself off as her face filled with a resolve that Viktor had seen many times over the course of the year, "You had that man in your mind, I think you had it worse."

Once the stilted initial meeting had passed the two students engaged in some small conversation with Viktor's parents, a more muted explanation of plans for after school life than they would have shared, but for the events of the previous evening. Viktor had liked the pretty girl from Beauxbatons from the off, she was smart and not afraid of who she was, as well as being a fierce competitor.

Fleur explained that she had been accepted onto the Gringotts training scheme, having decided to become a Cursebreaker. The Krum's congratulated her, and his father seemed especially impressed, having heard from a contact of his that the bar for entry was set incredibly highly.

"I expect I will be seeing more of you Viktor," she said with a slight glint in her eyes as the conversation came to a lull and she had announced her intention to leave.

"Da?" he asked curiously.

"My assigned coach during my training will be William Weasley; he is Ron's older brother, he says that Hermione often stays with them over the summer," she finished with a little smile before she disappeared.

* * *

The night passed in a blur of whispered conversations and the twisting sensations that accompanied each revelation settling into Viktor's understanding. Though, despite his growing apprehension, the Aurors never came in. Viktor had expected them to have barged in as soon as he regained consciousness, and he began to suspect there had been another reason for his father's sudden trip to get tea earlier in the night.

A little while after light broke through the high windows a soft voice in the Hospital Wing caused an immediate pause in the conversation happening around his bed. Viktor had waited up to see if Hermione would come, despite his mother's protests that he should try and get some more sleep. Now he knew he had made the right choice, hearing her speak he felt calm flow into his chest. She mumbled something that was barely audible and then one of the 'guards' spoke in reply.

"He is recuperating Miss Granger, you cannot go passed," the first began.

"And he needs to speak to the Ministry," the other interjected officiously.

"Really?" she replied, the warm, happy tone that Viktor was used to associating her with was long gone. This was not Hermione on her best behaviour; this was her _thoroughly_ pissed off.

Viktor looked over at his parents gauging their reaction to Hermione's tired irritability. His father seemed to be holding back a laugh, and his mother had inched towards the curtain so she could hear better.

"How does his impending _appointment_ prevent me going back there?" Hermione asked, and Viktor could picture her folding her arms across her chest and looking up at the Aurors menacingly, despite her slight build.

"This is highly irregular," one of the men spluttered and Hermione tsked.

"I would hope that the events of this evening were somewhat irregular, wouldn't you?"

There was a pause where all they could hear was a shuffling of feet.

"Are you… family?"

" _Evidently not_ ," Hermione responded with a level of derision his headmaster would have been proud of. "I think everyone here is aware of my heritage thank you."

His mother walked away from the curtain grinning happily. "Oh, I am going to love that girl in time."

"She's certainly… _feisty_ ," his father muttered, with a slight air of disapproval.

Sofiya raised an eyebrow at him incredulously, "What is a rose without a few thorns? Surely you wouldn't advocate something so precious being unable to protect itself?"

His father was saved from response by said feisty rose barrelling through the curtains, shooting a sharp look just beyond them before pulling the divider shut.

"Viktor," she said, rushing forward, before she seemed to belatedly realise that his parents were there and she paused for a moment, her fingers twitching in the bottom of her shirt until his mother laid a hand on her back and softly compelled her forward. Hermione charged again, more colliding with him than meeting him, wrapping her arms around him and burying her face against his neck.

"Sorry," she said earnestly as Viktor wrapped himself around her tightly, leaning forward so he could lift her onto the side of the bed, her body was shaking.

"I meant to get here last night, but everything was a bit of a nightmare, what with Cedric and then Harry and Moody or well, Barty Crouch. It was him that stunned you by the way, and then McGonagall said I had to go to bed, and I couldn't just go marching around the halls on my own," she said out in a rush of words that Viktor could only just make out.

Grigor got out of his seat, moving to offer Hermione his chair, which she gratefully accepted, blushing slightly when she realised she had been practically wrapped around him in front of his parents. His father walked out of the dividers exchanging a few words with the 'guards' as he went.

"Did you get any sleep, Hermione?" His mother asked as Hermione settled into the seat.

"No," she shook her head, "I had to see you," she replied politely, looking straight at him before turning to accept the blanket he threw from the end of his bed.

By the time his father got back, holding a single teacup, she was already fast asleep.

"How am I going to leave her?" Viktor asked, looking at the girl who had curled herself into the small chair, her hair spilling over the arm.

"It will be fine, it won't be for long, and you can see her over the summer," his mother said, and Viktor nodded.

That had been his plan after all, only now that the time approached it wasn't nearly as comforting as it had been before.

* * *

Hermione startled awake; she must have been tired as she didn't even remember falling asleep. She sat up quickly blindsided for a moment, scrambling when she realised her legs were tangled up in a soft blanket. As she shuffled upwards, groggy and sore, she saw Viktor in front of her on the bed, and she calmed down a little, even more, when she realised he was perched on top of the covers and in his regular clothes.

"Viktor?" She mumbled, getting his attention and he turned to smile at her, stretching his hand to intertwine their fingers.

"Hello," he murmured.

"Sorry," she replied, her head lolling to the side of the seat, "I didn't mean to fall asleep."

"It is okay; you must have needed it."

"I suppose I did."

They smiled at each other, but it felt slightly strained, so much had happened, there was so much she wanted to say, so much reassurance that she wanted, both from him and to give to him. But it felt like a giant clock was suddenly above them both, reminding them that their time was coming to a close.

As Hermione righted herself, she ran a hand through her insane hair with the hope of making it less ridiculous, as she moved she noticed a gap in the curtains and her head snapped back to Viktor.

"Guards have gone," he explained.

Hermione sat up, immediately on her feet, "What did they say to you? You should have woken me up; you can't let them treat you-"

"-Hermione," he broke in with a more genuine smile on his face, "all is okay, my parents were here. They have listened, and now they have gone away."

Hermione resumed her seat with a sigh of relief and fumbled in her pockets for a hair tie. "Sorry, I must look a complete mess."

Viktor put his hand on her shoulder, stilling her movements, "You look like, how I imagined you would look when you wake up."

Hermione felt her cheeks flush and was still averting her eyes when Harry walked in, after a fairly ineffectual knock on the divider.

Her friend looked terrible, though, a little better than he had last night. When she, Dumbledore and Professor Snape, had crashed into Professor Moody's office it was in the nick of time. Though how he would deal with all of this she had no idea. Harry was incredibly brave, he had more courage than any Gryffindor she knew, yet he had enough of a hero complex to blame himself entirely for whatever happened at the school. The holiday was poorly timed. Hermione adjusted her twisted jersey as she debated requesting Harry stay with her for a few weeks over summer.

The two boys had a quiet, laboured conversation, both looking grave in a way that hurt Hermione to look at. But she kept herself out of it, and dutifully did not eavesdrop until they had said what they needed to say.

Harry saw himself out soon after, with a request to meet in the common room later, and they weren't left alone for long. When Viktor's parent's returned, they brought Filip and Mikhail with them, and Filip rushed forward to enlarge the chair she was on before falling next to her, securing her in a cuddle that made Viktor kick at his shins.

Grigor looked on with some bemusement but no judgement before swiping his hand through his exasperated son's hair.

"Igor Karkaroff has fled, I think it might be best if you boys returned with us.'

"No, father," Viktor replied respectfully, "I think we must return on the ship, it is the right thing to do."

A moment of frank pride crossed Viktor's father's face before he stoically patted his son on the back.

"Oh, in all of the… commotion, of yesterday I didn't show you," Grigor opened up his jacket to reveal a Vratsa Vultures pin affixed to his shirt. "I can't wait until they have the shirts."

* * *

When Hermione eventually left the Hospital Wing she no longer had any idea how many hours had passed, sections of time since Fleur had emerged from the TriWizard maze had either dragged beyond reason or evaporated in the blink of an eye. She had promised Grigor and Sofiya that she would come to say goodbye to them before they left, and was intent on tracking down the rest of her friends before she went to find some food. Hermione had long thought of herself as a relatively solitary person, but at that moment she wanted nothing more to be around people.

As she exited the heavy swing door, she barely missed crashing into a lone finger standing in the corridor. Cho Chang was standing just beyond the entrance, her eyes fixed on a point inside, through the slight window. Hermione moved towards her, taking in the girls rumpled yellow jersey and tear stained face. As she looked back over her shoulder, Hermione could see Cedric's parents on the other side of the ward, talking to Professor Sprout.

"They don't want to leave yet," Cho said suddenly, her voice utterly hollow. "Something too final about going I think. If they leave, then it's actually happened. If they leave, they go not with their son next to them, but with this body, to arrange his funeral."

Hermione looked at Cho and wished Ron was with her, or Ginny, or even Luna. Her friends always knew the right things to say, not like her, she would probably make it worse.

"I wanted to go in," Cho continued, her gaze still fixed on the grieving couple. "I wanted to say something to them, but I got stuck out here, and now I don't know what to do."

Hermione felt tears prick uncomfortably at the corners of her eyes, she remembered Cedric at the ball, dancing attendance on the beautiful Ravenclaw with the kind eyes and the sense of fun that matched his own. Her fists clenched for a moment with indecision before she stepped forward and wrapped Cho in a firm hug.

She was sure Ron would have gripped the young woman on the shoulder, told her some ridiculous story that would have pulled her away from how she was feeling. Ginny would have tackled the issue straight on, no fear, she would have boldly told her what to do to make the pain lessen. Luna would have said something totally nonsensical, that would have shocked Cho out of her misery in an instant, then, later, when Cho was away from the situation, the blonde's words would come back to her, their meaning now clear and they would be accompanied by a much-needed sense of peace.

But Hermione didn't possess any of that kind of magic; she had no special skills at her disposal. So she pulled herself onto her tiptoes and wrapped her arm's around Cho's shoulders embracing her hard.

"I think you should go in, I think you will regret it if you don't," Hermione said eventually, and Cho nodded once against her neck before moving her previously static arms to return the embrace fiercely.

* * *

Hermione stood out in front of the large castle doors, waiting for the Krum's to arrive with butterflies in her stomach, though they were not about meeting Viktor's parents this time. As far as first encounters went theirs was eventful, to say the least, but the couple felt genuine and warm, and Hermione could honestly say that she had enjoyed meeting them. She was more nervous because they were leaving, Viktor was out of the Hospital Wing, and the end of term was approaching, far more quickly than she would have liked.

Hermione mused that if she were a normal girl, at a regular school, all she would have been consumed by at that moment would have been sadness at Viktor's imminent departure. But once again that wasn't the route her life had taken, a war was coming for them, a real war, with real consequences.

It seemed selfish to wonder about her own life at such a time, but she couldn't help it. _How would it change the vague plans they had made?_

Hermione turned back towards the castle as she heard the door opening and a sound of fastly delivered Bulgarian chatter filled the air as Mrs Krum spoke in seemingly unending sentences at her son. Hermione didn't need to speak the language to understand, the 'be good, be careful speech' had an international application.

When they saw her, Sofiya grinned broadly before stepping forward to wrap Hermione in a hug.

"It was so wonderful to meet you, Hermione, I look forward to seeing you over the summer," she said with a little glint in her eye. "If your parents need a letter from me ahead of your trip please let me know."

Grigor came forward and very formally kissed her hand, which despite his advanced years made Hermione blush severely, and Viktor rolled his eyes.

"We will see you again Miss Granger," he said politely if a little stiffly, and they walked away after a final word or two to Viktor.

When it was just the two of them, they stood for a moment, standing a few feet apart just looking at each other. Hermione was almost afraid to touch him in case it would eventually make it worse. _Was it better to create more memories now, or leave it to what had been?_

Hermione gestured towards the grounds, and they fell into step next to each other, wordlessly directing themselves towards a tree that overlooked the lake. When they fell under the shadow of its branches, Viktor sat back against the trunk, stretching out his legs in front of himself and without warning pulled Hermione down to sit between them, wrapping his arms around her as they listened to the birds around them.

Hermione felt safe she realised, as her head fell back against Viktor's shoulder. It was such a nice feeling.

"Do you remember that day after the first task, when you gave me the dragon?" She asked eventually. It was easier to speak like this, while they weren't looking directly at each other.

"Da."

"I was waiting for you that day," she continued in little more than a whisper. Hermione wasn't sure why she made the omission. On some level, she thought he might need to hear it, after everything that had happened in the final task she knew at least part of him would be blaming himself, however needlessly. Another part of her wanted to let Viktor know, for certain, that she had been in this from the beginning. He may have been more overt than her, a lot more open a times, but she cared just as much.

Hermione looked out across the water, her eyes falling onto the anchored ship sadly, and she placed her hands over his. "I don't want to hold you to anything," she uttered quietly, and she felt Viktor stiffen behind her, but she ploughed on. "I've still got three years of school, and I live in a different country, and you have a career and everything."

"Hermione, all of that is true, but maybe I am selfish because I want you too," Viktor said as he rubbed a thumb gently over the skin of her arm.

"What if you meet someone else?" Hermione asked, it had been playing on her mind for weeks. The memories of the fangirls from around the time of the Yule Ball were still fresh, and it wasn't as if their presence had died down any since it became apparent there was something between them, if anything it was just that Hermione had got used to it. The behaviour was bound to be worse once he started playing for a professional team full-time.

"I met lots of women before, but they were nothing like you," he reached forward to pull a strand of her hair behind her ear, his mouth falling to talk directly into her ear, "How many girls would tell me that they did not really like Quidditch?"

His question and the amusement laced through his tone made a small laugh bubble up her throat, and he held her tighter.

"Hermione, we visit over the summer, no expectations, no ties. You are young, and someone could come along and take your heart, but I would like to try, to be something, because… because I adore you, you have made me happy. I am on tour and training full time now; I do not have time for more than you can give."

The air went quiet between them again, and Hermione unconsciously shifted back into his embrace. Viktor dropped his chin on top of her hair. "I thought I had planned everything; you live in a different country, you are younger. I was happy to wait and… I didn't factor on war," he said seriously.

"And now?" Hermione asked hesitantly.

"Now, I don't know how to leave you here."

Hermione turned in her position to hug him, awkwardly getting up onto her knees so she could wrap herself around him. Viktor gripped her tightly, pulling her into his lap and pressing his face against her neck.

"I think," Hermione started, already feeling a blush coming over her cheeks, "I think that it could work, maybe, we could write letters after all."

Viktor smiled then, an expression Hermione was much more familiar with, his eyes held an air of mischief, and she felt her already full blush increase.

"It has been a year, and you still blush," he teased softly, his face drawing near to hers.

"I can't help it," Hermione protested, "you make me flustered."

Viktor grinned, "Please do not try to help it, Hermione," he whispered before he laid his lips over hers, stealing her breath and her fear away.

* * *

Viktor walked out of the Hogwart's castle doors for what would probably be the last time, any visits he had in the future were unlikely to be on the school's grounds. He had gone back and forth over what the right thing to do with Hermione was. There was a small part of him that whispered at the back of his mind that wanted a firmer resolution, 'give it a name' it had implored, 'make her your girlfriend, make it more formal'. But he knew it wasn't the right course. He couldn't and wouldn't tie her to anything; she was so young, she could change her mind. It wasn't the same as giving up, Viktor had no intention of doing that. He supposed after a year of practising his spoken English it was time to start getting better acquainted with the written word.

Hermione was a few feet away from him, and he watched with a small smile as Mikhail dropped a formal kiss on her cheek handing her a book he had selected from his trunk, before Filip barged forward, picking the little witch up and twirling her so fast she screamed.

Turning away Viktor stepped over to a little cluster of her friends, Harry, Ron and Luna who were saying goodbye to some of the other departing students.

"Are you going to tell us to look after her?" Ron asked as soon as he was within hearing distance, a slight edge to his tone, not rude exactly but not pleasant either. Viktor suppressed his smile. _Game on kid_.

"No, was going to ask you to be there for her," he clarified before turning to the ethereal blonde, "Luna, will _you_ and Ginny look after her?"

She grinned, absentmindedly twirling a piece of hair around her finger. "We'll try."

Heading towards Hermione, Viktor managed to dislodge Filip, and his friends left for the boat, Mikhail with a quick hand to his shoulder and Filip with a waggle of his eyebrows that made Hermione blush.

Viktor reached into his warm coat and pulled out the address that he had written up before, "This is for my parent's house, _write to me_ , once I have my own place I will send you the details."

Hermione turned the parchment over in her fingers, "Thank you; I'll let you know as soon as I have spoken to my parents."

Her face fell to the ground as sadness crept into her eyes and Viktor cast a quick glance around them before he leant forward and kissed the corner of her mouth. "Thank you for noticing my broken nose Miss Granger; I cannot imagine what this year would have been like if you hadn't." She smiled at him then, one of those beaming ones she had that made his chest feel relaxed and tight all at the same time. "Keep watching your post," he continued, "I will send you a Vratsa shirt, just as soon as they make one small enough."

She punched him in the arm then, and even though he knew it was coming, he let her connect with her target of his upper arm.

Hermione did her own sweep of her eyes around them before stepping forward and wrapping her arms around his stomach, his heavy fur coat almost obscuring her entirely.

"Be safe," she whispered, and he dropped a kiss into her curls.

"I should be saying that to you."

"I will," she assured him, before reluctantly letting go.

Viktor dragged himself away before he could do something stupid like ask her to come with him. With a final smile and a gentle brush of the back of his hand across her cheek, he began to fight his way through the crowd of students, forcing himself not to look back.

"You alright Hermione?" He heard someone say to her as he entered the throng.

He almost turned when he heard Hermione reply, "Yes thank you, Katie." The distinctive sniffle in her voice was hard to ignore.

"Did he just tell you to write to him?" Katie asked, Viktor vaguely remembered having met the tall Quidditch player when Harry had asked for a game.

"He did, I'm visiting him over the summer," Hermione replied.

"Lucky bitch," Katie said, her tone full of amusement.

Hermione laughed, her voice was still thick but it was much less sad, "I am, aren't I."

Viktor smiled.

* * *

End of Part One

* * *

 _A/N Thank you to everyone for your patience while I got the last few chapters of this part out. This fic is now going on temporary hold while I map out Part Two. I know where I am going with it but there are details I want to iron out, and hopefully get to a point where I can fulfil a more regular update schedule._

 _Huge hugs to everyone that has reviewed and added to lists, I had no idea people would enjoy this fic so much, and the support has been wonderful._

 _Update: As a few readers have asked, for clarity Part Two will continue within this same fic._


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